


The Black Knight.

by AzureAlquimista



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Hermione Granger, Dark Ron Weasley, F/M, Ron Weasley-centric, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:39:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 23,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27560137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzureAlquimista/pseuds/AzureAlquimista
Summary: Voldemort has fallen, but the price of victory has been terrible.Hundreds of wizards were tortured, killed, or disappeared forever, victims of the Death Eaters. Ron Weasley was one of those missing heroes.Weeks after the end of the war Ron wakes up in the fields of Hogwarts not knowing how he got there.Hero or Traitor?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 89
Kudos: 40





	1. The Awakening.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic a long time ago. Before the seventh book was published, so now it's a seven-year AU, I suppose.
> 
> I have translated and revised it, eliminated some inconsistencies, added a couple of chapters, and used all the English language tools I could find to try to reach a non-offensive English level.

The Sun was beginning to rise on the horizon. Ron Weasley closed his eyes dazzled by the sudden luminosity. After rubbing his aching eyes he looked around in total disorientation as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep.

In the background, he could see the huge silhouette of the Hogwarts Castle jutting out against the sky. All around him, a lush and beautiful meadow slid down to the shore of the lake.

He was within the fields of Hogwarts, but everything was totally different from how He knew it. It was the beginning of November, so it would have to be freezing cold, and everything would have to be frosted and covered with snow.

And where were the tents? Over the last year, Hogwarts had become the last safe place to take refuge. Aurors, members of the Order, Muggle wizards... They had all brought their families here. The grounds had ended up covered with hundreds of tents of all sizes and colours, like a macabre imitation of the Quidditch World Cup that Ron had seen several years earlier.

A gust of wind nearly tore the cape from his neck. He looked at his clothes for a moment. Why was he dressed in mourning? Black trousers, shirt and cape... or at least that must have been his original colour, now he looked more like a dirty greyish brown.

Everything was so strange. How had he got there? Why was everything so changed? The temperature, the terrain, even the clothes he was wearing. His head hurt terribly and his eyes could not stand the light of day. Perhaps he was hungover? That would explain the fact that he had woke up by the lake, but what about the rest? He tried to remember how he had got there, but it only aggravated his headache. There was only one thing he could do if he wanted answers: He wrapped himself in his tattered cloak and started to walk towards the castle.

He had barely walked halfway when several spells struck around him. He was so absorbed in his thoughts that it took him a few seconds to realize what was happening.

Four broom-mounted figures were moving rapidly toward him, one spell after another coming from their wands. He dodged the first curse as he frantically sought his wand. He managed to avoid two more before his legs gave way abruptly under him: A Jelly-legs curse! He cast the counter-spell a second too late. A reddish glow crashing against his chest was the last thing he saw before he was knocked unconscious.

(...)

He woke up sitting in a chair; tied to it, in fact. And his headache hadn't exactly improved with the curse. A man was practically on top of him, pointing his wand at him. He immediately recognized the uniform. The auror slowly moved to one side still aiming at him.

Now he could see where he was: the director's office. He could almost see Dumbledore sitting behind his desk, looking at him with those mysterious, inquisitive eyes... but Dumbledore had been dead for almost a year. It wasn't even his successor, Professor McGonagall. It was Percy. But not the scholar who suffered from the twins' jokes, but a Percy with hardened features, wrinkles and grey hair marking his profile. And an expression of hatred that Ron had never seen, at least never directed at him.

Percy stared at him for a moment. "What for? What the hell do you think you're going to gain from all this?"

"No... I don't understand."

"No, of course, you don't. You don't understand anything... Innocent as a dove!" He ran his hand through his hair, in a painfully familiar gesture. "Haven't you done enough damage already? You could run away, or try to hide... Or kill yourself! Anything but... anything but this." He made a dismissive gesture towards him as if his mere existence were an insult to good taste.

"What's going on?" Ron was totally confused. Since when was Percy the director of Hogwarts? And what had he done to make her hate him like that?

"What the hell do you want? Forgiveness? Do you think you are going to be able to negotiate a deal?... Don't make me laugh! All you're going to do is bring pain and shame on the whole family. You were a hero. Harry Potter's best friend sacrificing himself heroically. And now... Now you're nothing but a miserable traitor!"

"Stop talking nonsense... I'm not a traitor!"

"Not?!... And what is this?" Percy jumped on Ron and pulled his whole shirt sleeve off. On his forearm, a snake was writhing between the teeth of a skull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. Way too short!... But I will update every two-three days... I hope!
> 
> The first three chapters are all-Ron. From there we'll have a bit of Ginny, and a lot of Hermione.


	2. Darkness.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron "enjoys" his life in prison. 
> 
> His MoM-appointed Defender gives him some information and advice.

How long had he been locked up in that damn hole? Two, three... four months? He had no idea. He only left the cell for interrogation. Two Aurors would come in, lead him to another room, tie him to a chair and make him drink some kind of potion. After that, his memories would always become confused and erratic. When he woke up the next day, he had a horrible headache and a foul taste in his mouth.

For the first few days, he had tried to resist. He had screamed, kicked, and demanded to see his family, Harry... Or anyone. In some moments of despair, he had even attacked the Aurors. Defeating two Aurors with a wand would have been almost impossible, but with his bare hands... The only thing he had achieved was to end up bruised, bound and gagged. After a few weeks, he stopped complaining and putting up any kind of resistance.

From the little things he had heard from the jailers, months had passed since his last memories. In those months Harry had managed to destroy the Dark Lord, and most of the Death Eaters were either dead or rotting in prison... Just like him.

The worst part was that he couldn't blame them. Months without a single memory and when he appears, he has the Dark Mark on his arm and no explanation as to why.

If it were someone else, he wouldn't believe in his innocence either... But he wasn't. He was Ronald Weasley, and even if he didn't remember anything, they could never convince him that he was a traitor. There had to be some explanation. Perhaps he had been tortured, or they tried to use him as a spy... or something... It was simply impossible that he had betrayed the people he loved most in the world.

He ran his hands over his side, he could count every rib. Life in the dungeons was not sitting well for him, too little food and too much time to think.

He often wondered what was going on outside, in the world. Would his family know where he was? What about Harry and Hermione? They had to be so worried about him. Knowing how determined Hermione was, they had to be moving heaven and earth to try to help him.

(..)

A sound took Ron out of his thoughts. The only good thing about being in a cell was that there was plenty of time to prepare for visits. First, the footsteps echoing through the corridors, then the locks on the door unlocking, and finally the screech of rusty hinges as the small but surprisingly thick door to his cell opened.

For a few seconds, the entrance remained open without anyone appearing. Finally, a small figure stepped through the opening. He couldn't be more different from the couple of huge Aurors that used to come and pick him up. The little man was wearing a dark hat and suit, small round glasses and a black leather case. He stood there, nervously watching how the cell door closed again.

After all the locks were thrown out, he looked around, not that there was much to see. The cell was almost cubic, three metres long on each side; walls, floor and ceiling of large stone blocks; a pallet in one corner and a latrine on the opposite side.

After a moment's hesitation, the man decided to sit in a corner of the dirty pallet, as far away from him as possible.

"Well, as you can understand, this is not a friendly visit. The Ministry of Magic has appointed a Defender for your case. My name is Royce Fernsby. I will represent you in front of the Wizengamot."

He waited a few seconds. As Ron remained silent, he continued. "Of course, the Ministry has provided me with all the necessary documentation, but if you have anything to add, now is the time."

"Add? I don't remember anything. I was at Hogwarts, just after Halloween. And now..."

"Yes. That was a few months ago. You have been through several inspections and... if you'll allow me a moment..." He opened the case and started to rummage through the papers until he found what he was looking for.

"Yes, here it is. This memory loss must be... yes... Good. It seems that you were subjected to a particularly complicated spell, probably by who-you-know-who. Any attempt to break it or remove it would seriously damage your mind."

He looked up to look at him briefly. "Basically, you would be turned into a vegetable." He put the paper back in the case with obvious satisfaction.

"The funny thing is that the spell seems to be breaking down on its own. In a few months, it will likely have disappeared completely." He stopped talking a moment mulling over the fact.

"Anyway... The memory loss doesn't change anything, we have... I mean, they have your wand and there are enough testimonies to condemn you to the kiss without any doubt. And the stunt of saying that you were under the Imperius stopped working long ago. They probably wouldn't have even bothered to judge you if it wasn't for that." He made a gesture pointing at Ron's forehead.

He looked up automatically, but of course, he couldn't see his own forehead. He touched it with his hand, but he didn't notice anything unusual. "What?"

"Of course... You don't remember that either. You have a tattoo on your forehead, it actually surrounds your entire head; it's a Ragnarok curse: without the soul, the body instantly disintegrates, creating an enormous magic blast. It's an extremely powerful curse."

Ron quickly pulled his hand away from his head. "So... Am I some kind of human bomb? If I die..."

"Azkaban is incredibly solid, but It would still blow up this whole floor... That has protected your life so far, but it won't stop you from spending the rest of your days in Azkaban... or from getting the kiss when they manage to deactivate it. In any case, this trial doesn't make much sense. The only thing to decide is the sentence to be applied. I honestly think it would be best to accept all the charges and beg for the court's mercy."

"Mercy? But I have done nothing. There has to be an explanation!" He tried to get closer to the man, but he crashed into an invisible wall.

"I am afraid that this attitude will be useless and please do not try to approach me." He pointed a finger at his head. "Shield Hats, an ingenious invention of your brothers."

He closed the case and stood up, eager to get out of the suffocating cell at once. "The last hearing will be in ten days. Let me know if you change your mind."

"Wait! What about my family? Do they know where I am? Will I be able to see them?"

The man knocked on the door a couple of times and the locks began to open. "Your family is perfectly informed of the whole process, but as you are a maximum-security prisoner I don't think visits are possible. However, I will try to do everything I can about it."

"Although I don't think it's going to do much good." Ron heard him muttering to himself as he disappeared out the door.


	3. The Wizengamot.

A single black knight on an empty chessboard.

"Hurry up Weasley!"

He looked up. Dumbledore was sitting in his office across the board. He looked at him impatiently over his glasses.

"Weasley, you have to move!"

He looked back at the board. It was still empty, but he knew that wherever he moved he would lose his knight, his last piece.

Dumbledore got up abruptly. "What are you waiting for? You have to move NOW! Everything depends on you!"

He examined the board again and again, desperately looking for a way out, but there was none. He couldn't find any possible moves! Everything is going to be lost because of him, all because of him!

"I can't, I can't..."

"You can't let us down! You have to!"

"I can't!"

"YOU CAN!" His normally peaceful eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. He grabbed him by the neck and started to shake him, totally crazed... He had to get out of there.

With one final pull, he managed to free himself and ran out of the office as fast as he could. He didn't look back but he could hear his screams chasing him, closer and closer... hundreds of voices screaming, howling his name.

Ron was in a dark, damp tunnel. Everything was covered with arms, legs, heads as if a thousand people had been dismembered right there and covered everything with their bloody remains... And each and every one of them stretched and twisted trying to reach him, groaning, and screaming in pain and despair.

He kept running, trying to avoid them. He had to find a way out. With a sinister creak, the tunnel began to narrow. All of the severed limbs began to shake frantically, as if possessed by a horrible agony.

Something hit Ron's back, knocking him to the ground. He tried to get up, but cadaverous hands held him down, burying him alive in a sea of blood and viscera that covered everything... He fought frantically, trying to free himself, but he was getting deeper and deeper into the poisonous mass. He felt in horror how his flesh began to dissolve and separate from his bones. He was rotting and becoming one of them...

He tried to scream, but his throat gushed with his own blood... Only a horrific howl escaped from his lips.

(...)

The small sphere lit up with a loud snap, illuminating his cell and announcing the beginning of the day. At least that's what Ron thought, without windows, it was impossible to be sure. He rolled over in his bed, covered in sweat, and tried to forget the nightmare.

Ten days, the little man of the ministry had said, but many more had passed and nothing had happened, everything was normal... or as normal as life in prison could be.

A few minutes later, a bowl of disgusting white goo and a pitcher of water appeared. Ron rushed to pick it up. In a few minutes, everything would be gone again, whether he had eaten it or not. Once breakfast was over he lay down on the pallet and waited for someone to show up.

He was already half asleep when he heard the door open. An Auror came through the door.

"On your feet! And be still."

He wasn't one of the usual ones, He had only seen him a couple of times. Maybe they were finally going to take him to court. With a bit of luck, he might see his family again and Harry and Hermione. He had never gone so long without seeing them, and certainly never needed or missed them more than now.

Behind the Auror came another much less muscular and dishevelled-looking wizard. He flourished with his wand a few times and stared at him for a moment. Apparently satisfied with the result he turned around and disappeared through the entrance to the cell.

The dirty rags that Ron had been wearing since his arrest had turned into decent-looking black trousers and a white shirt, his beard had also disappeared and his hair was no longer dirty and greasy.

"Okay. You're handsome now." The auror sneered and pointed his wand at him.

Ron closed his eyes. He knew what was going to happen. Even with his eyes closed, he noticed the red flash before he fell unconscious.

(...)

Ron woke up in a small stone room, not unlike his own cell; behind him, it was a narrow, torch-lit passage; in front were a pair of huge doors blackened by the passage of time. The same Auror held Ron by the arm, holding him upright as he recovered.

"There's the Wizengamot," he nodded at the doors. "You have to go inside and sit on a chair that will be behind you."

"Chair?" Ron was still disoriented by the spell.

"Yes. You won't have any trouble recognizing it: It's the only one with chains." The Auror smiled, amused by his own joke.

"Chains? I don't want any chains." The trial! He remembered everything, he was finally going to be judged. But why did they want to put him in chains? He could hardly stand, it wasn't as if he could escape.

He waved his wand in front of him. "You have to go there. It's either going to be easy or hard. Personally, I prefer the hard way..." With one push he led him to the huge doors, which began to open on their own.

In front of him was the Wizengamot room. It was a huge underground room carved out of stone. It reminded him of a small Roman circus. On the steps, in semi-darkness, sat dozens of wizards dressed in dark red with a silver W embroidered on the left side of their chests. In the centre, much brighter than the rest of the room, was a crude wooden chair with chains on its legs and arms, which looked as if it had been taken from a torture chamber. Several Aurors stood guard at the foot of the terraces.

"Go to the chair." The auror stuck the tip of the wand in her back.

Ron advanced slowly, looking around, trying to find a familiar face. Somewhere there had to be his family, and Harry and Hermione. He tried to look around, but in the shadows, he could barely make out the first line of seats.

In the centre of the room his defender, the little man from the ministry, appeared. He gestured to the chair.

"Please, sit down."

As soon as he did so, the chains were wrapped around his wrists and ankles, holding him firmly to the chair. He tried to free himself, but the more he pulled on the chains, the tighter they held him against the chair.

"Please be still. It is totally useless to resist. You will only hurt yourself."

He made a couple more attempts before he fell exhausted into the chair. The defender was right, he would never get free.

A light came on, illuminating a central box where the president of the Wizengamot was flanked by two secretaries.

The president, a stern-looking man with a wiry physique and a hooked nose, stood up and began to read a scroll. The secretary on his right began to take notes quickly.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley is summoned to appear before the Magic Law Board to be tried for the following crimes: He is accused of having participated directly or indirectly in the torture and murder of 26 people under the orders of the one who should not be named."

"What? I have not done anything! I..."

"Silence!"

"I just want to..."

The secretary made a gesture to one of the guards. The auror reacted instantly.

Ron continued talking silently for a few seconds before he realized what had happened.

"Let's continue. All these accusations have been verified by this tribunal through testimonies obtained under the effect of Veritaserum. The wand belonging to the prisoner has also been examined and the execution of unforgivable curses have been confirmed, which match the testimonies obtained. The sentence for all these crimes is the destruction of his soul through the kiss of a Dementor."

"Members of the jury, raise your hand if you agree with the sentence." As he said this, he raised his own hand. Most of the wizards followed him immediately, after some hesitation and looks around, the rest imitated them. Only a handful of wizards continued with their hands stubbornly lowered.

"Your Honor!"

The president looked as if he could not believe that anyone would dare to interrupt him at such a crucial moment. After a few seconds, he seemed to recover from the surprise, although not from the displeasure.

"The Defender has the floor."

"Your Honor, we had asked for the court's clemency. Since the use of dementors will soon be abolished, we had made a plea to this court for the commutation of the sentence. We have received no reply but..."

The President didn't let him finish. "I am aware of the petition. It is true that the possibility of abolishing the use of dementors is being considered, but at the moment it is just that, a possibility. This court cannot be governed by laws that do not exist, nor can it give favourable treatment to anyone. According to the law, for the crimes committed by the accused, there is only one possible punishment. The plea has been dismissed."

He picked up the scroll again and continued reading with obvious satisfaction.

"The prisoner will be taken to Azkaban where he will remain until the incantations protecting him have been removed, after which the sentence will be carried out. If this is not possible, he will remain in that prison until the end of his days."

He raised his head and looked around in a dignified manner. "That is all. The meeting is adjourned."

As one man, all the wizards rose and began to leave the room talking noisily to each other.

The Defender approached his chair.

"I'm sorry, but with the trial on the front page of all the magic press and your father's position in the ministry... after the disaster of the war, all the members of the Wizengamot are desperately looking for scapegoats to set an example with. And who better than the famous traitor Weasley? I'm afraid the only thing I could get was permission for a visit: two people for twenty minutes".

Ron stared at him. If someone had asked him, he would have told him without a doubt that he would be screaming, flailing and kicking desperately right now. But he just felt empty. He just didn't know what to think, or fell. Everything was totally unreal, as if it were happening to someone else. It was a strange dream from which, sooner or later, he had to wake up.

The little man looked back at her. "You may not believe this, but I am not enjoying this. I delayed the trial as long as I could. With a couple of weeks more, the new law would have been accepted. A life sentence in Azkaban is one thing, but the dementors... we should put an end to these abominations, not use them.

The auror custodian approached, "I'm sorry, sir, but we have to move the prisoner."

"Yes, of course." He hesitated for a moment. "I... I'm very sorry." He carefully placed his hat in his head, and walked away with a tired step.

The auror pointed his wand at him. Ron closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Another chapter published. In the next one we will enjoy Ginny's presence, and finally Hermione will make her appearance.


	4. Ginny.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny visits Ron: Revelations, surprises... And chaos.

If the Ministry's dungeons had been dark and claustrophobic, the Azkaban's ones were also cold and damp. And so, here he was: curled up on the pallet of his new cell, trying to keep himself as warm as possible.

"Weasley, you have a visitor!"

The cell's door was already sqeaking and clanking with a loud close before Ron realized who was his visitor.

"Ginny?" Ron straightened up awkwardly as he rubbed his eyes.

It was his little sister: Carrying over her shoulder a big bag, shiny red hair tied up in a ponytail, and sporting that familiar look she always had before a Quidditch game.

"I've brought you some food. You can only eat one or two. They are charmed so that each one has enough nutrition for a day." Ginny said, opening her bag.

As Ron devoured those tender and delicious buns, he could not but blurt out. "Why did you bring so many?" This was too much for someone who was first in line to be executed.

Ginny did not answer. Instead, she turned around to the door (as if checking whether they were alone or not?), and just like that, a blowfly buzzed past his ear and landed straight into her open palm. But she was holding no-fly, but a wand. One that is immediately directed at him.

"Don't move!"

Ron did not know what to be more surprised about: his sister managing to sneak in a wand into Azkaban, or her pointing it at him.

"Ginny... What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"First of all, You have to make an Unbreakable Vow with me where you promise to never hurt anyone ever again!"

"Ginny, you know I would never hurt-."

"I don't care! Only then I'll help you escape. Otherwise, you stay here and be a dementor's snack. There is no other option".

"But... It takes three people to take an oath and here we are only two."

"I will be the bonding agent too."

"Ginny, you can't be both-''.

"Just because it's unusual doesn't mean it can't be done! Will you do it nor not? You need to make up your mind right now." She said curtly.

"Fuck!" He ran his hands through his hair. There was nothing that made the slightest bit of sense in all of this, but... What did he have to lose? "Okay. All right. What do I have to do?"

In response, Ginny clasped her right hand with his and using her left hand, placed the tip of her wand onto their linked hands. Looked straight into his eyes, "Will, you, Ronald, promise never to kill, torture, or cause any harm to any person, magical or Muggle?

Ron did not avert his eyes. "Yes, I will."

At once, a ring of fire appeared symbolizing the completion of their magical contract.

"Here." Ginny handed him the wand. "When the twenty minutes are up, the Auror will come to let me out. I will block his sight so that he doesn't notice your wand. That's when you stun him. Only stun. Remember the vow! "

"Okay. And then?"

"Then you will use me as a hostage and breakout from here. There aren't many guards and the dementors are locked deep in the dungeons, so we won't have much trouble getting to the entrance. I've brought Harry's Firebolt so no one will be able to follow us. When we get to the mainland, you can just drop me off anywhere".

"Why are you doing this? You don't believe I'm innocent."

"No, I don't. But you are still my brother and I don't want the dementors to feast on your soul. Besides, I don't think Mom can handle losing another child, especially like this."

Another child... Bill. He and his wife, Fleur, were captured by the Death Eaters a few weeks before the last battle. By the time the Order managed to rescue them, it was too late. Fleur had been tortured and killed and Bill was in St Mungos dying slowly without anyone knowing why. In less than a month, Teddy and Victoire were orphaned.

"How's Mum?" Ron asked timidly.

"Dad and Mum are a mess, Mum especially. She spends half her time not knowing where she is... it's because of those damn calming potions."

"And the rest? How's everybody else? Does everybody think the same as you?"

"Well, it's not like we talk about it much. Fred and George think you're innocent. They helped me with the fly and the food. Honestly, I think all Dad and Mum care about is that a dementor is going to devour their son's soul. I don't think they give a shit if you're guilty or not. The rest are screwed up, obviously, but I have no idea what they think."

"What about Harry and Hermione? They know me, they have to know I'm innocent."

"Harry's locked up in Grimmauld Place, trying to consume all the firewhisky in England. Hermione almost came with me. Thank Merlin, we finally convinced her that it was better to keep an eye on Harry. She would never have let me do this."

"Do they think I'm a murderer?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes. They think you're guilty. Everybody fucking thinks so, so stop asking! We've seen the statements, the evidence... Nobody believes you're innocent! Except the twins. Who knows why! They're the only ones who insist on you're innocent. I suppose they can't accept that they're the brothers of a murderer."

"I'm not a murderer!"

Ginny looked at him with a mixture of grief and exasperation. "Merlin! So, it is true you don't remember anything."

"How can I remember something I haven't done?"

"Look... When we get out of here just hide. OK? Go as far away as you can and never show your face again. At least this way mum will still have hope you're alive. If you won't do it for us, at least do it for her."

"Fuck." Her mother and all his family, suffering because of him and he could do nothing to change that... except running away and disappearing forever from their lives…

The sound of approaching footsteps and tinkling metal keys interrupted his chain of thought.

"He's coming! Don't let him see your wand!"

Unlocking the door's cell, the guard said, "Time is up. I'm sorry but you have to leave."

Ginny took one last look at her brother, picked her enormous bag, and approached the guard. Following Ginny's lead, Ron casted the stunning spell which went under Ginny's bag and onto the unsuspecting guard, who immediately collapsed to the floor. Perfect. He wouldn't even know what had knocked him down.

Ginny quickly picked up the wand and the keys of the fallen Auror. "Obliviate! Here, take the Auror's wand, follow me...". Then she stomped on one of his knees. Ron heard a creak of bones.

"Why did you...?"

"Now he'll remember that you swooped in from behind me, kicked him down, and took his wand... We must hurry. If we are lucky there will only be those two guards at the entrance."

After passing through endless corridors and stairs, Ginny suddenly stopped. "The guards at the entrance are behind that door. You knock them out, take their wands, the broom, and get the hell of out of here, understood?"

"Okay, but why do we need so many wands? I already have yours and the..."

"I gave them a fake one! We have to get rid of it. They could inspect my wand and see that it was used to stun that Auror. It's better to take them all and get rid of the evidence."

Ron clutched his new wand between his fingers. Ginny's plan included him knocking out at least two more Aurors... With a borrowed wand, and after spending half a year in a cell. Easy.

"Wait." Ginny walked in front of him. "I'll open the door. You get behind me and grab me by the neck. Remember: I am your hostage. If you use me as a shield, they won't attack you for fear of hitting me... At least I hope so."

As Ginny began to open the door, Ron caught a glimpse of one of his targets and stupefied him successfully. At the sound of the fallen Auror, the other one turned his head in total surprise. On the side of the entrance, as surprised as the Auror inspecting her wand, was Hermione Granger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ginny made her debut!... From now on, we'll see a lot of Hermione.
> 
> Finally: Not. My English hadn't improved suddenly. You must thank Gja03, who has offered her help as beta reader. Without her, this could barely be considered English language.


	5. Hermione.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron begins his escape. Hermione tries to stop him by all means.

Hermione was the first to initiate a response. With one swipe, she secured her wand from the Auror's clutch (snapping him from his trance) and pointed it at their shared sinister threat: Ron.

"Let. Go. of. Ginny."

Taking advantage of the guard's slow Fight-Flight response, Ron easily stunned him and replied "Hermione, drop down your wand and step out of the way."

"Haven't you done enough damage? She's your sister, Ron!"

"Then step aside and no one gets hurt!"

"Sure... and as soon as she's no longer of use to you, you'll murder her just like all the others... I'm not budging!"

"Hermione!" Stubborn witch. She was going to ruin everything! He had to change tactics. Pointing the tip of his wand on Ginny's throat, Ron retorted "If you don't move, I'll bloody kill her right here right now!"

"Touch one hair on her head and you're dead!-"

"Yes. Yes. You can kill me as many times as you like, but then again, she would still be dead and it would still be your own doing!"

Hermione went silent for a moment and changed her tactics too by throwing a stunning spell at the "hostage". And with that, Ginny's body lay limp in Ron's arms.

Almost arrogantly, she quizzed "What now Ron? How do you expect to make a run for it while carrying extra dead weight? And if you choose to revive her, you would leave yourself defenseless in the process. A very easy target"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Do you want me to kill her?"

"Just leave her be and take me instead."

"What?"

"You heard me. Harry has suffered enough. He needs her. The Weasleys need her. And in this way, you would still get your hostage".

"Fuck!" Fucking sodding woman. Instead of bickering like idiots, they should have been up in the sky by now. "But how can I be sure that you won't attack me as soon as I let her go?"

Instead of answering, and with a swift wave of her wand, Hermione Accio-ed Ginny's Firebolt and threw her wand on the floor.

"There, I can't attack you now. Just put down Ginny and Follow me."

Wanting to get an early head start on the guards, Ron accioed the three nearby wands, laid down Ginny gently, and hopped on the broomstick behind Hermione.

As soon as he sat down, the broomstick shot up into the sky, yawning left and right. Ron put an arm around Hermione and managed to grab the broom handle. By the time he finally tamed the Firebolt, they were hundreds of yards up.

"Are you out of your bloody mind! Are you trying to get us killed?"

"I just want Ginny to be safe!"

"Well, she is... Unlike us!"

A shrill sound of sirens reached them. In the distance, small broom-mounted figures can be seen coming out from one of Azkaban's towers.

"Shit. We've been spotted. Hold on tight!"

"No!" Hermione tried to resist, but with her back to Ron, and wandless, she couldn't do much. One calming spell later and Hermione rested placidly in his arms.

After hours of dodging waves, and fighting off heavy winds, the night skies finally arrived. At first, the Aurors tried to chase them, but their broomsticks were no match for a Firebolt. Exhausted, Ron decided to trust the darkness and set the broomstick in a more comfortable position.

(...)

"No. Wait! Wait! I'm on your side." Even in the dark tunnel, his blonde hair stood out. Behind the mask, Ron could see his terrified grey eyes.

"Right. And what's my side?" He sneered.

"Uh... What... Side?"

A macabre smile lit up Ron's face. "Oops, wrong answer, Ferret."

The spell cut clean through his victim's neck. The head went off balance and fell to the ground. With a kick Ron made the body follow the same path. "Coward till the very end."

He could sense that a second group was nearby. He knew their next movements like the back of his hand. As such, the once-abandoned tunnel was soon filled with cries of pain and anguish as bodies of the deceased piled one on top of the other.

As he reached the end of the tunnel, he caught the unusual sight of a disfigured corpse, lying on its back with its limbs raised. With a wave of his wand, the camouflage was removed.

"My. My. Lucky me. Look who we have here. The great Antonin Dolohov!... Oh. How careless of you! Where is your wand arm?"

"YOU! Bloodtraitor! I always knew it!"

"Right. Well, if you were that sure, maybe you should have told someone... little late now, don't you agree?"

"You'll fucking regret the day you were born! I'll kill you and your whole filthy family!"

"Honestly, I doubt it. But thank you for reminding me: Remember Fabian and Gideon Prewett? You helped murder them."

"Two blood traitors! They deserved their fate!"

"You better thank your lucky stars that I am in a hurry... Alas, this is for them: Diffindo!"

The Death Eater collapsed with both legs cut off above the knees.

"And last but not least, remember Hermione Granger in the Department of Mysteries?." Dolohov's screams were cut short when the curse separated his head from his body.

(...)

Ron woke up with a start. He had fallen asleep! How long had it been? It couldn't have been long... although it was long enough to have another one of those horrible dreams.

His whole body was stiff and sore, but he couldn't complain... At least he still had his soul!

Hermione stirred and moaned something indiscernible. Ron shook her gently. Slowly, she began to open her eyes. Suddenly, she let out a scream and sat up all straight without taking her eyes off the forest that stretched hundreds of feet below.

"Don't worry, you won't fall."

Hermione slowly turned to him. Her eyes were dislodged by fear. "Where are we?

"No idea. But I think we'd better go down and stretch our legs a bit".

Distracted by descending the boomstick, Ron only noticed a sharp movement before Hermione's fist slammed hard against his chin. Everything suddenly went black. He then found himself trying desperately to hold on to the broomstick as Hermione tried to push him off.

Suddenly, the broomstick began to spin in all directions and Hermione's cries of terror filled his ears as he felt her falling off. Vision restored, and remembering Charlie's words "If you don't want to kill yourself, control the broom first", Ron held the broom handle firmly until it stopped wobbling.

Almost instinctively, he looked down for any sign of Hermione; he found her falling few feet down below. He leaned over and Firebolt responded immediately, increasing its speed. With all his might, he pulled Hermione into his arms.

The broomstick was now curved like an arc under their bodies, trying to break the fall. They were going to make it! He thought as he desperately pulled the handle up. It was then that he heard a crack; the Firebolt was breaking!

At the last moment, he dropped the remains of the broomstick and held on to Hermione trying to shield her from the impact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my gratitude to Gja03, without her help, this would be a mess.
> 
> From now on, we will see some gore and violent scenes. Wars aren't funny, nor pretty, nor heroic, but hell on earth.
> 
> I suppose a lot of you will have recognized the little excerpt from the seventh book. I'm sorry but I couldn't help but use a phrase of canon dialogue to make a bit of 'Poetic Justice' with one of my most detested characters. Shame on me… Nah… I enjoyed it way too much.


	6. Lost.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the crash, Ron finds Hermione. She is not happy.

With a racing heart, Ron opened his eyes. Why was he lying in the middle of a sodding swamp? All the memories came back to his mind: Ginny's visit, the escape... and Hermione trying to kill him!

He felt like his head was going to explode at any moment. Thank Merlin, his wand was safe and sound in his pocket, and a couple of Episkey spells did wonders to ease up his excruciating pain.

More powerful healing spells existed but he didn't know them. Surely Hermione...

"Shit!"

How long had he been lying here? Had Hermione already woken up and fled the scene? Highly unlikely. This was Hermione Granger after all; Had she woken up before him, he would have been bound and gagged by now.

After a couple of attempts, he managed to get up. It must have rained recently because the entire surface of the forest was a muddy, slippery mass. It was not an easy terrain to cross, but Ron could not complain; this had probably helped a lot in cushioning their fall.

He needed to move fast if he was to find Hermione before she woke up. That would save him a lot of trouble.

(...)

After wandering around the forest for hours, and ending up covered in mud and fern leaves up to his neck, Ron decided to take a break.

Exhausted and hopeless, he sat down on a fallen tree, and there was Hermione! Right behind the trunk, upside down with her face covered by her huge clump of hair. For a moment he thought perhaps she was dead, but if he had survived, she must have done so too.

He turned her over carefully. She had some scratches, otherwise, she seemed perfectly fine.

"Enervate!"

A jolt went through her body, and she slowly opened her eyes. Momentarily, Hermione looked at him confused, but then she jumped up and backpedalled until her back was against the trunk.

"What were you doing to me? Get back!"

Ron raised his hands, trying to calm her down. "I wasn't doing anything... Besides saving your life. Not that you care too much about that."

"I didn't ask you to save me..."

"No. And I didn't ask you to kill me either. What the hell were you thinking? You almost killed us both... Stupid question. Right?"

Hermione just looked at him defiantly.

"Why do you despise me so much? Am I that horrible that you don't care if you die if it means I do too?"

She continued to look at him in silence, her jaw firmly closed. Ron moved closer until he was almost nose to nose.

"Why don't you answer? Tell me what the hell I've done to make you hate me like this!"

"I told you to get out of my way!" She pushed him away with all her strength. Enraged, she screeched. "Do you want to know? You betrayed Harry! You betrayed the Order and became a Death Eater! What better spy, than the best friend of the boy who lived! Don't you remember the trial? The dozens of innocent people you tortured and killed? Well, among them were my parents. Maybe you did it personally. That would be very like Voldemort style. He ordered you to kill my parents... And you did it. Didn't you?"

Ron had more than enough of everyone accusing him of being a murderer. "I don't know what you're talking about! You know me. I couldn't do anything like that to anyone let alone your parents..."

"I know you? Hah! That's what I thought, but it's clear that you fooled us well. So many years together and we never suspected what a miserable vermin you were. The traitorous rat's owner turned out to be even worse than his pet."

A gesture of unpleasant surprise crossed Hermione's face. "How could we not notice? You knew about the rat! You knew he was Voldemort's spy. After all, so were you. "

Ron rolled his eyes. "That's the stupidest thing you've ever said, and you know it. I never suspected my rat was an Animagus. Neither did you! No one knew it... You have no idea what you are talking about. I would never betray Harry!"

"You did. In exchange for your family's life. And for the right to... use me." The word oozed disgust and contempt in equal measure. "As your sex slave. If I survived, of course. Those were your terms!"

"That's bloody ridiculous."

"It's not. And you know it."

"No. I don't know anything. As usual, you know everything, and I don't know shit about anything... "

Once again, Hermione did not respond. Ron got up and started to collect everything he found. Nearby was Ginny's bag, fortunately intact. "We'll have to continue on foot. Let's go"

"I'm not going anywhere with you! What do you want me for? You've already escaped, haven't you? Leave me alone!"

"And what are you going to do here alone and wandless this marvellous forest? Come on, get up."

"And if I refuse? Avada Kedavra me? Oh, I forgot. You're not skilled enough to cast it."

"Stop playing around and get the fuck up."

"What's the matter? Why don't you try it out? Maybe the Veritaserum didn't work out well with Malfoy and you can do it."

Hermione looked at him as if he was the most despicable being on earth. "Come on! Don't you feel like killing me? Don't you miss it? Or... do you only kill from behind?"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A green flash illuminated the forest.

"Maybe you aren't as well informed as you thought."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my gratitude to my beta reader Gja03.
> 
> A bit of a filler chapter. Things will move faster in the next chapters.


	7. The Traitor.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron and Hermione are lost in the forest. Ron has another... nightmare? memory?

Hermione sat down with her back against a tree and closed her eyes. Ron collapsed on the other side of the small fire. They had spent hours walking in the mud, making their way up and down through the thick forest and wading through icy creeks. All to advance a few miles he did not know quite where.

Ron watched Hermione. He could still see the look of surprise and horror in her face. Obviously, the Avada Kedavra was not directed at her. But still, how could he do something so horrible... and so stupid?

He wanted to apologise, but what could he say? It was better to forget it and end the day before he managed to make another mess.

"You are exhausted."

"As you are." Hermione cut in.

"Yes. We'd better get some sleep... Can I trust you not to try to escape during the night?"

Hermione looked back at him in disbelief and contempt.

"No, I suppose not." He pointed the wand at her.

"What are you going to do?" Hermione tried to look strong but this time she could not stop her voice from sounding frightened.

"Nothing. I'm just going to make you sleep through the night".

"Don't you dare do anything to me..."

Ron did not let her finish. "Do you think that after walking around all day with mud up to our knees, I have the strength or even the desire to have a roll in the hay?... Stupefy!"

After tucking her with a couple of blankets that he had transfigured earlier, he dropped by the fire. He had something important to do.

He opened the bag and took out the wands. Keeping only one wand was dangerous, but Hermione getting hold of one was even more so. With that thought, he decided to throw all of them into the fire.

He watched them sizzle and spark as the flames consumed their magical core. It was going to be a long night. The first of many, probably.

(...)

The room was enormous, with high ceilings decorated with frescoes, marble walls carved with complicated motifs, and the floor covered with mahogany. At one time it must have been a luxurious hall dedicated to dances or parties, now it was nothing more than a large dusty room in a half-abandoned palace.

A large fireplace adorned one of the walls. Lord Voldemort strolled in front of the fire, and around him, a dozen Death Eaters waited in silence.

A house-elf appeared in front of one of them and whispered something. The Death Eater turned to his Master.

"He has arrived, my Lord."

"On time. Show him in."

"Yes, my Lord." He gestured to the house-elf, who disapparated with a crack.

Seconds later, the doors of the hall opened, and through them entered a figure dressed entirely in black with his head covered by a hood, followed by two Death Eaters.

Facing the newcomer, the Dark Lord said: "Well, well... What do we have here?"

The figure knelt and removed his hood, revealing a thick mane of red hair and a pale, freckled face.

"Ah! Young Weasley. To what do we owe the... pleasure... of this visit?"

With his head still down, Ron Weasley replied, "My lord, I am here to offer my services to your cause."

"So my informant was right" He glanced sidelong at one of the figures, who shuddered slightly. "And what makes you think I won't kill you right here? What reasons can you give Lord Voldemort to respect your insignificant life?"

"I bring you a gift, my Lord. A gift, a plea... and this." He lifted his fringes showing a black tattoo, two snakes crisscrossing over and over, piercing his forehead from temple to temple.

Voldemort's eyes opened in surprise. "A Raknarok curse. It had been a long time since I had seen one... But do you think you can scare Lord Voldemort with that?"

"Of course not. I know my Lord is too powerful to suffer any harm. If my Master wants to kill me there is no way I can avoid it, but even if this spell is unable to reach my Master, I doubt that any of his followers here would survive... I only beg that this humble servant be heard."

The Death Eaters stirred restlessly. Voldemort looked around with contempt. "Yes, it would be inconvenient to have to replace them... although in some cases I would be for the better..." he seemed to ponder for a few seconds. "All right speak up. What do you have to offer the greatest wizard of all?"

"The gift, my lord, is a gesture of goodwill to demonstrate the sincerity of my offer." Before anyone could speak, he began to recite what he had no doubt spent much time memorizing.

"The only one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord approaches. Born of those who have defied him three times, he will come into the world at the end of the seventh month. And the Dark Lord will point him out as his equal, but he will have a power that the Dark Lord does not know. And one of them shall die at the hands of the other, for neither of them shall live while the other lives."

"The prophecy!" This time Voldemort's eyes were open with real interest.

"Dumbledore believed that the power of which prophecy speaks is love."

"Very much like that old fool..." Voldemort stood still, no doubt thinking about the prophecy. A few seconds later he came out of his self-absorption and began to speak as if nothing had happened. "Make your plea."

"Yes, my lord. My plea is more like an offering. Harry Potter's life for my family's. Potter will never suspect his best friend. I will lead him into an ambush in exchange for my family's lives."

"Are you offering me a deal? I think you have made a mistake, you're not Lord Voldemort's equal. You're nothing but a worm, and Lord Voldemort doesn't make deals with worms." He raised his wand threateningly, green sparks coming from its tip.

Ron bent his head even lower and spoke as fast as he could before Voldemort decided to use his wand. "Of course, my Lord! I would never dream of doing such a thing! I'm only offering you the chance to end up with a traitor like Harry Potter once and for all... I only beg you to spare the life of your servant's family."

He looked up slightly. Voldemort seemed to have calmed down momentarily. Perhaps he had a chance. He hurried off to talk further.

"I know they're all blood traitors, but it's all that bloody Dumbledore's fault. He poisoned their minds with his stupid lies. I do not ask for their forgiveness or their freedom, just give them some time, just enough time to get rid of Dumbledore's poison and realize their mistake. I know that deep in their hearts still beats the pride of the pureblood."

"Your family has committed great crimes, Weasley, and they will not go unpunished... But on the other hand, there are not many pureblood families left in the Wizarding World. It would be a pity to lose one more unnecessarily... All right, Voldemort will hear your plea... within reason."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"Raise your head and look straight ahead. Lord Voldemort must confirm the truth of your words."

All the memories of his years at Hogwarts cluttered in his head: The rivalry with his brothers, who were always better than he was; The continual arguments with Hermione; The frustration of watching her achieve everything effortlessly while he failed again and again; The envy of Harry's popularity, of his new clothes, of his latest broom and his elegant pet; jealousy of Krum's broom skills, of his fame and his relationship with Hermione."

"A mudblood!" A huge sarcastic laugh echoed through the room. "Rejected by a mudblood!... Pathetic! You should thank her."

"It was a moment of weakness of which I am most ashamed of. My lord, I beg you, if she were to survive the war, let me show the mudblood her place."

Voldemort seemed almost amused by the request. "Do you want a Muggle slave?"

"Leave her to me and in a few months, I'll teach her to serve her Master with more devotion than the best of the house-elves."

"Devotion? That Muggle scum will always be foolish and treacherous, but if that is your wish... Serve me well and you can play with as many Muggle slaves as you wish."

"Thank you, my lord. I will not disappoint you."

"Goyle! Bring the prisoner."

A few minutes later, the Death Eater returned to the room, dragging a young woman who must not have been more than twenty years old. He shoved her at his master's feet.

"Well, Weasley. Show me your commitment to the cause".

Ron raised his wand without hesitation. "Crucio!" The girl writhed on the floor, crying, and screaming in pain. After a few minutes she stopped writhing, Ron lifted the curse.

Voldemort kicked the prisoner, the only response being a faint whimper. "Tell me, Weasley. Do you always leave jobs half done?"

"I'm very sorry, Master. It won't happen again." He raised his wand again.

"No." With a wave of his wand, Voldemort threw the girl's body into a corner of the room. "Take that rubbish away."

As Goyle rushed her out of the room Voldemort smiled with satisfaction. "Well, it looks like you might be of some use after all".

"I only wish."

"Yes. And you will. No doubt about it... Kneel and show me your forearm".

Ron obeyed immediately.

"My Lord!" One of the Death Eaters had knelt. Behind his mask fell a lock of blond hair.

Voldemort turned reluctantly. "What is it, Lucius?"

"Will you give him the mark, my Lord?"

"Do you want to decide what I should and shouldn't do, Lucius?" As Voldemort's voice spoke, it lost the mocking tone with which it had begun, and grew harder and harder, until it almost shrieked.

"But my lord... He is... He is a blood traitor! I beg you not to trust him. Our victory is certain, he only wishes to save his life."

"Trust?" A burst of laughter echoed through the room. "Malfoy... Lord Voldemort need not trust anyone. And yes, he probably just wants to save his life, but how many of you here have denied me to save yours?" Voldemort looked around the room.

"NOT ME, MY LORD!"

"Yes, my faithful Bellatrix. You have always remained faithful, but what about the rest?" All the Death Eaters remained silent as Lestrange raised her head in pride.

"Young Weasley will be tested over the next few months before he is truly accepted."

Voldemort approached the prostrated figure, who still had his left arm outstretched.

"Serve me well and you will be rewarded beyond your imagination, betray me, and wish for death."

An incredibly cold hand gripped his wrist as the wand ran down his forearm like hot iron, drawing the dark mark. He clenched his teeth as a wave of pain and nausea invaded his body.

(...)

Ron opened his eyes. He was panting, sitting by the fire. He pressed his hand against his forearm. He still could feel his Dark Mark hurting.

It was starting to get light in the woods. Lying on the ground on the other side of the fire, oblivious to the world, Hermione slept peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, my gratitude to my beta reader, Gja03.
> 
> Of course, Ron didn't kill Hermione. This is a Romione fic, even if right now they aren't very friendly.


	8. The Row.

After days and days of slow progress, nothing had changed in the landscape. They seemed lost in the middle of an endless forest of huge trees, weeds up to their waists, and mud up to their knees.

That afternoon Hermione had sprained her ankle. At least that's what she said. Whatever the case, Ron had preferred to camp and rest. For Merlin's sake, he needed it. Each day Hermione seemed stronger and more vital, while he felt weaker and more exhausted.

They sat around a small fire, sheltered by a huge fir tree. Ron threw a couple of twigs into the fire and watched as Hermione massaged her injured ankle. As soon as she told him, he used a pair of Episkey. There wasn't much more he could do. "How is it? It doesn't look swollen."

"It hurts." She answered without looking up. Hermione didn't talk much... except to insult him.

Ron reached into Ginny's bag and pulled out a bun. If they were to spend the night there, they might as well eat something. He gave half to Hermione. "Here. We'd better eat something."

Hermione seemed to hesitate for a moment, but finally, she took it.

"For the thousandth time, they're not poisoned." Ron ate his in one bite.

Hermione stared at her piece. "Where do you get them? And why do you have so many?"

"Wha... What?" He had to think of some excuse... And fast.

Hermione looked at him suspiciously. "Why do you have a bag full of food?"

"Eeeh... Ginny brought me some food in Azkaban. There were half a dozen of them, but I'm multiplying them with Gemino spells." An imaginary Ron did the victory dance in his head.

"I haven't seen you do it. Not once." Hermione didn't seem too convinced.

He replied with a mocking smile. "Maybe it's because you're such a heavy sleeper now. Years don't pass in vain. Eh, Hermione?" He tried a little provocation to divert her attention. Would it work?

"They haven't passed for you neither. You're still the same jerk."

She took the bait! "How much hostility! I see you're still as delightful as ever."

Her face turned red. Hermione could never bear to have her anger taken for granted. "How sensitive you are for a murdering traitor. If you can't stand me, you know what to do: Go away and leave me alone!"

"Don't worry. If I put up with the psychopathic tantrum you got in our sixth year, I can put up with anything." Yes. A low blow, but with that, Hermione would forget about the buns for sure.

Hermione lifted her head to cast a look of pure disgust at him. "I was just defending myself. It's not my fault that you showed your lascivious, cowardly and vindictive nature from your earliest childhood."

"Vindictive, cowardly, and... Lascivious?... Nature. You are not short of it! And since my childhood. That doesn't seem very consistent. I think you're raving again." Ron retorted.

"I don't mean just your filthy slobbering with Lavender. Actually, you were always the same. Or have you forgotten about the Yule Ball? You wanted to go with me, but you were too much of a coward to ask... But when someone else did what you didn't have the guts to do, you got jealous and tried to ruin my night... You see! Fourteen years and you were already a coward, lascivious and vengeful."

Obviously, Hermione hadn't lost her touch. In five minutes she could make a Viking cry... And she still would have three left. "You exaggerate way too much!" Ron couldn't help laughing. "Okay, it wasn't my best day, but at fourteen, what did you expect? A prince charming?"

Hermione only grunted. "A vengeful lout, you mean."

Ron had never talked about it to anyone before, least of all to her, but... Why not? Not that it mattered a shit at this point.

"You know, believe it or not, in the fourth year I was very innocent."

He heard Hermione whispering. "Very stupid."

Ron ignored it and concentrated on memories of times past and, now he knew, much happier.

"I remember when I saw you go into the Ball Hall, so incredibly beautiful. I think my heart stopped for a moment. But then, I realised that all those wonderful changes were not for me, but for Krum. That it was only for him that you had become so beautiful... I think that day I experienced my first crush and my first broken heart in less than a second".

Ron laughed softly. "It's normal I behaved like a drunken troll. I didn't understand half that was happening to me. I just knew that I had never felt so bad."

"Totally immature." Hermione said.

"Of course I was immature. But at least I proved it at fourteen, not at seventeen like you."

That struck a nerve. "It wasn't my fault that you betrayed me and got involved with the first big-titted brainless cow you came across!"

"Betrayed? You asked me to accompany you only as your guest." Ron said it emphasizing the last word. "And according to you, only because you had to go with someone, and you thought I was a little better than Cormac... Although later you changed your mind."

"Yes. Whatever you say."

"Yeah, right. You could make your snogfests with Vicky, but I couldn't do the same with Lavender. Eh, you little hypocrite?"

"I INVITED YOU! And you had an affair with that... Harlot."

"ONLY FOR PITY. And that harlot showed me more appreciation in two months than you've ever shown me in your entire life."

"Of course! And this appreciation that she showed you were inside a DD cup bra. Right? If you think..."

A big laugh from Ron interrupted her.

"What the hell are you laughing at now?" She screamed furiously.

Ron just smiled, "It's like old times, huh?"

For a second Hermione was speechless, but she recovered quickly. "You wish!"

"Come on! Don't tell me you didn't miss our little arguments."

"Now it's clear you're totally insane." Hermione could deny it, but Ron thought he saw a telltale blush on her cheeks.

"You know what they say: Children and fools tell the truth." Ron took out his wand. Hermione tried to hide it, but she could never stop a flash of fear to show in her eyes.

"Don't worry. It's time for bed. Make yourself comfortable." Ron said as calmly as possible.

Hermione grumbled, but lay down by the fire and wrapped herself in her blanket. "If I find that you've touched a single hair on my head while I'm asleep..."

"Every day the same!... Yes, woman. Do not worry. I give you my word that your virtue is safe with me."

"Great. The traitor gives me his word of honour. Now I feel safe."

Ron pointed his wand at her and watched as Hermione closed her eyes, preparing to receive the spell.

"Stupefy!" He watched as Hermione's chest slowly rose and fell with each breath. She would sleep until he woke her up the next morning.

Ron stared at Hermione. Her words hurt more than he wanted to admit, but at the same time, he was happy to see that the war had not been able to destroy Hermione Granger's spirit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This row is important, not because of what they discuss, but how they do it.
> 
> At first, Hermione treats Ron as the killer she thinks he is, but in the end, she rows with him as she would do it with the "old Ron". Hermione still maintains her spiteful behaviour, but things are changing, even if she isn't ready to accept it.


	9. Come

Hermione Granger turned around with her hands on her hips. "The forest ends here. Where are we going now?"

For the past weeks, they had been moving through the woods, hoping that they would be hidden from any Auror that might be searching for them, but that was over. Only a few trees remained from the huge forest. In front of them lay a meadow of grass and bushes. In the distance, a small Muggle village could be seen.

They could still move through the open countryside, but any Auror could easily see them from a broom. They could also try to blend in with the Muggles, but with Hermione by their side, it would be suicidal. She would only have to cry for help and it would all be over for him.

"Well, what do you decide?" Hermione waited impatiently for his answer.

Ron was exhausted, as usual, and had no idea what to do, and no desire to think about it. "It looks like it's going to start raining, let's find a place to spend the night. Tomorrow we'll decide."

They ended up camping next to a huge tree that was growing near a half-ruined stone wall. There they would be protected from the rain and wind, and hidden from anyone looking for them from the air.

Ron lit a small fire and leaned against the wall. Hermione, as always, stood on the other side of the fire, wrapped in her blanket.

Ron stared at the fire. He could barely keep his eyes open from exhaustion. Accustomed to the silence of his cell, he now found it difficult to fall asleep in the middle of the fields, and when he finally did, it was no more than a couple of hours before he woke up to some horrible nightmare. The flames of the campfire danced before his eyes, mesmerizing him with their sinuous movements. His eyelids got heavier and heavier.

(...)

The fire was burning brightly in the Hogwarts Headmaster's fireplace. He looked away and saw Dumbledore pointing his wand at him.

Ron smiled bitterly. "I guess my time is up."

"Believe me, this is not something I want to do, Mr Weasley. He looked him straight in the eyes. A dazzling purple glow extended from his wand. Ron tried to avert his eyes but was paralyzed with his gaze fixed on Dumbledore's. An unbearable pain exploded in his head.

"... All the envy, the meanness, the cruelty, the evil that dwells in your heart..."

(...)

He woke up abruptly. Hermione was talking to him.

"...stiff as a statue and suddenly you're panting like a dog. What the hell is wrong with you?"

He rubbed his face with his hands as he tried to clear his head. He had fallen asleep for a moment and had a dream. It was just that, a stupid dream.

"Nothing. There's nothing wrong with me." He replied irritably.

Why didn't she let him rest in peace? He couldn't understand it. While he was totally exhausted, Hermione seemed to have endless energy.

It seemed that Hermione had finally fallen silent, but now she was watching him with an inquisitive look that he had seen many times while she was doing some assignment, or reading some particularly interesting book. He knew that the silence would not last long.

"Why did you save me?" She asked abruptly.

"What?

"It's not logical. You threw yourself at me to catch me. Why? You'd already escaped from Azkaban. You didn't need me at all. It would have been much better to have gone your way with the Firebolt."

Ron remembered her cry of terror as she fell from the broom. Hermione was scared of heights, he couldn't imagine what she must have felt as she plunged to her death. "Would you have preferred to die crushed against the ground?"

"What do you care what happened to me? Now you could be thousands of miles away from here."

"Yes. I would be thousands of miles away and you would be dead. Thank you, but no."

"Why? It doesn't make sense."

Why bother telling her the truth? "I have my reasons."

"Your reasons?! Weeks walking in the rain with mud to our knees, sleeping on the floor and only a few hard buns to eat... and you tell me you have your reasons!?"

"I didn't ask you to exchange yourself for Ginny. If you're here, it's because you can't stop sticking your nose in..." He stopped abruptly and bent down with a grunt, pressing his right arm against his body.

Hermione was puzzled until she saw the blood on his shirt. She turned sharply around looking for a possible attacker, but all seemed calm.

Ron seemed to have recovered quickly from the attack, but his shirt sleeve was stained with blood. He unbuttoned it and carefully pulled it aside. A dozen still-bleeding cuts crossed his forearm.

"What the hell...? How is that possible?" Ron lifted his shirt. The sleeve was intact. Bloodstained, but intact.

"The first thing is to heal them. They don't look very deep, so it should be easy." Hermione went over to take a closer look. "They are very clean. It's as if they were made of something very sharp... or a spell."

Ron looked around. "Do you think anyone...?"

"If the Aurors had found us, you would be incapacitated or dead by now. Plus the shirt is intact. Any attack spell would have cut it off too... Honestly, I have no idea what could be the cause. Maybe the side effect of some curse, or a badly treated spell... I guess the only thing you can do is to heal it and hope it doesn't happen again."

"Yeah... There's only one problem. The cuts are on my right arm. I don't think I'll do a healing spell very well if I have to do it with the wand in my left hand."

"Then give it to me and I'll do it."

"Thanks, but I'd rather bleed out."

"What?" It took her a moment to realize. She was his prisoner. Ron couldn't give her the wand. "Well, at least wipe the blood off your wound and bandage your arm. You can do that, can't you?"

Ron carefully cleaned the cuts. "I don't think they needed bandaging. Look. It's hardly bleeding anymore. I'm sure in a minute..."

Ron looked up. Hermione had grown strangely quiet. She was gaping at his arm with her eyes wide open, and pale as a ghost.

"What's wrong?" Ron inspected his arm, but all he could see were the cuts. Nothing to warrant her reaction.

"Ron, turn your arm." She spoke as if in a trance, looking at his arm as if she couldn't believe her eyes.

"Turn it?"

"Put it in a horizontal position."

Then he saw it. The cuts weren't random. They formed letters.

Four letters written in blood: Come.

Instants later the cuts disappeared without leaving any trace or scar, as if they had never existed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things will change very fast in the next chapters. As always, reviews and critics will be gratefully received.


	10. Choices.

It was dark, and as usual, they were sitting around a small fire. Sometimes Ron would talk about things that had happened in their Hogwarts years, or ask Hermione about her job, or her plans for the future. It was clear that he was choosing safe topics of conversation.

They had already been in the same place for two days. To regain strength after the forest, Ron said. Hermione doubted that this was the reason, although it was true that Ron looked totally exhausted.

This was just one of many things that didn't make sense. During the first days in the woods, her legs had hurt terribly, but little by little her body had got used to the exercise. In the last few days, she had endured the walks with ease... Unlike Ron, who seemed more and more exhausted every day. At first, she blamed it on his long stay in prison, but after so many weeks, it made no sense. He had always been in much better physical shape than she was.

They hadn't walked much that day. They had been exploring the surroundings of the Muggle village, but without getting too close. He didn't want to take any chances. Hermione assumed that he meant that she could call for help or run off among the Muggles.

If she had the chance, would she escape? At first, she would certainly have. Now? She wasn't so sure anymore. She wasn't crazy. She obviously didn't want to be a prisoner any longer... But somehow she didn't like the idea of escaping and... And what? Never knowing the truth? Never finding out what was really going on with Ron?... Or maybe she was just afraid that she would never see him again?

Every day she had to remind herself that Ron was a Death Eater. That the evidence was beyond doubt. But even so, it was all very confusing.

The main problem was that Ron wasn't behaving like a killer. She had ignored, insulted and despised him, argued with him... she even tried to kill him! And what had Ron done? He had put up with everything, and almost killed himself saving her life.

Then, there were the wounds on his arm. As far as she knew they hadn't reappeared, but just once was enough to make her uneasy. She knew hundreds of curses and spells, but none that could do that.

And finally, the breakout. How Ron had managed to escape from Azkaban? And the buns! No one survived with a pair of little buns a day. They weren't normal. And Ron had hundreds of them. It was too convenient... She was sure Ginny had helped him. But why? Did she know something?

Ron's words interrupted her thoughts. "Well, it's time to sleep."

Nothing made sense. She couldn't understand it, and Hermione hated not being able to understand something. "Wait! We need to talk."

"Talk... About what?" Ron asked, startled.

"Ginny helped you escape, didn't she?"

"What?... No! Of course not! Ginny hates me, like everyone else!"

It was so obvious he was lying "So there's someone else. You're waiting to meet someone here."

"I'm not. Strange as it may seem to you, there's no plan. No one is helping me. We're not meeting anyone. I just managed to escape. No plan. No help. Only pure luck."

Hermione decided to let him think she had believed him. She needed more information. "So what are we waiting for? What are your plans?"

Ron ran his hand over his head in a gesture of dismay. "Plans? There's no plan. There's no one to help me. There's nothing at all... Actually, I have no idea what to do. Happy?"

"All this time... And you don't know what to do?"

"Honestly? I don't see a way out. Aurors could locate an apparition in no time. If I release you, in a few hours I'll have the Aurors upon me. And if I don't release you and we keep moving on foot through the open field... How many days will pass before an auror discovers us? Not many... If I had the broom I could have fled easily to another country, but..."

"But you destroyed it when you saved my life."

Ron looked at her firmly. "And I don't regret it."

"Well... There is still a way out." Hermione thought aloud. "It has been many weeks. Now the law forbidding the use of dementors must have been accepted. You could turn yourself in..."

"No way. I won't let Ginny and my family down. I can't be caught... No matter what happens to me."

"What do you mean, no matter? I'll speak up for you. It's always better to go to prison than to end up..." She stopped in her tracks. She had been so slow!

Ginny had helped him to escape, and no doubt so had the twins. If the Aurors captured Ron alive they would examine his memories, and they all would be apprehended.

"No, Hermione. I will do whatever it takes. They can't find me... I have to disappear forever."

"And how are you going to do that?" No matter how hard she thought about it, there was no way out.

"Do you really think I'm a murderer?"

"What does that have to do...?"

Ron looked away. "Every time I sleep I have horrible nightmares. I think they're memories. I do horrible things."

"Memories are not infallible. They could have been implanted in you. A simple Obliviate can do it."

"And my disappearance? And the Dark Mark?"

"I don't know, Ron. But you can't give up." She was surprised by her own words. Why did she need to defend him?

"Give up?... So do you think I'm innocent?" Ron seemed more hopeful than he had been in weeks.

Hermione wanted to say: Of course I think you are innocent!... But how? Yes, there was so much that didn't fit, but all the evidence incriminating him was overwhelming. She couldn't answer in one way or another.

Ron's eyes dulled as quickly as they had lit up.

"No. You don't... I've known you since you were ten years old and you've never been wrong about anything really important. I guess you've always been right: I am a murderer... And Yes. It would be better to turn myself in, but I can't do that to my family."

"What... What do you mean?"

"I don't see any other way out. You have to kill me. It's the only solution. We saw a small lake next to the village. If you transfigure my body into a stone and throw it into the lake they will never find it. You can say that you escaped. No one will doubt you. You'll be free and my family will still believe that I'm alive, hiding somewhere... This is the only possible solution."

"Do you want me... to kill you?" Hermione asked, horrified.

"I don't want to die, but I can't escape, and I can't be captured. There's no other way out. I would do it myself, but I can't."

Hermione recited as if reading the paragraph from the book of Magical Theory. "The survival instinct is too strong. No magic can be used against the life of the person performing the spell."

"Yes." Ron looked at Hermione for a few seconds with an exhausted expression. "It's no so bad... I am constantly tortured by horrible nightmares - so many that I hardly sleep at all. I can't stand it anymore... I have seen too many people die, I killed many of them myself... I guess now it's my turn."

"Ron. I don't think I can do something like that." Hermione said, sickened.

"Of course you can. It's the right thing to do."

Ron looked at Hermione with a weird, contemplative way.

"Losing the broom was a disaster, but I don't regret that it was you. I wouldn't have chosen anyone else to spend these last few weeks with."

Ron hesitated for a moment, before asking. "There's just one last thing I'd like to know before, you know... Did you ever liked me?"

That took Hermione so completely by surprise that she couldn't help but blush to the roots of her hair. "That... That's a private matter..."

"I knew it!... Well, obviously, I didn't, but..." Ron shook his head with a sad smile. "Merlín, I've been so stupid!... Well, it doesn't matter anymore. It was only one last question that irked me."

Ron knelt down beside Hermione, took her hand and wrapped it around the handle of his wand, resting the tip against his throat.

"Use a cutting spell. It will be very quick."

Yes. It would be quick. Hermione could visualize it perfectly: A whispered word and a clean cut opening flesh, cartilage and tendons. Ron collapsing on his back as blood gushed out of his neck, and finally glassy, empty eyes looking up at the sky. Perhaps a last shudder before death. Did she really have to do that? The thought made her nauseous.

Ron was willing to sacrifice his life for the welfare of his family. But that's what had made him betray Harry, wasn't it? If she believed everything she heard at the trial, the only way out was to kill him.

She pressed the wand against Ron's throat. He made no move to defend himself. He was at her feet, on his knees, with his eyes closed and shaking slightly, perhaps cold or perhaps frightened.

She had to do something, but what?

Betray him and give him up to the Aurors? That would condemn Ginny and the twins, and totally destroy the Weasley family. Or what little would be left of it.

Try to erase his memory of the escape? She'd never tried a spell like that before. With the right books and a few weeks of practice, she could do it. But without any preparation, she'd leave him as a vegetal for the rest of his life.

There were only two options left: Kill him or... accept that nothing made sense... And... What?

She had expected someone like Malfoy: cold and ruthless, but he was the same old Ron. The same one who had risked his life without a moment's hesitation to save her right after she tried to kill him; The same one with whom she had shared half her life, her best and her worst moments; The Ron she had always known.

They knew him better than the palm of their hands, Fred and George had said. They knew him... And they knew he was innocent. They just knew. No reasons needed.

She felt as if something was breaking inside her. She knew him a lot better than any of them, but she hadn't known... She had refused to believe in him. After looking down on him so many times. Had she done it again?

She could think of a thousand reasons for and against, but in the end, it all came down to one decision: what to trust? Her head or her heart?

Hermione clenched her fists. She had chosen: She was going to believe in him. As Ginny and the twins had done. As Ron would have believed in her without a moment's hesitation.

Hermione pushed the wand away from his throat.

Hermione felt like laughing and crying. She was happy and angry with herself for doubting him, and with Ron for believing that she could murder him. Hot tears were rolling down burning her cheeks, and she smiled as she recalled their conversation after Cho's first kiss with Harry... She wished she could have the emotional depth of a teaspoon too!

"What's wrong? Why are you putting the wand away?" Ron almost looked disappointed.

"Do you want to die so badly?" The rage growth inside Hermione. "Stupid boy!... It doesn't matter anymore!... Maybe to you, but did you really think I'd be able to murder the person I've been in love with since I was fourteen?"

"What..." He couldn't go on because Hermione had roughly taken his head in her hands and was kissing him as if her life depended on it. Ron, took by surprise, fell backwards with Hermione on top of him.

Hermione parted her lips from his barely enough to speak. "I was so wrong... And Fred and George were so right."

Ron was completely shocked. "I understand nothing... As usual."

"They told me that they didn't need to go to the trial, that they didn't care what evidence they showed. They knew you since the day you were born, and they knew perfectly well what you were capable of, and what you were not... They said the whole trial was ridiculous, a bad joke."

"Did they really say that? Ron asked, amazed.

"I guess they love you more than they seem." Hermione looked down. "Much more than I do,"

"Hermione, not..."

"Yes, Ron... I've failed you. I haven't trusted you when you needed me most."

"You're here. That's all that matters. I've made hundreds of mistakes and you've always forgiven me: When I thought Crookshanks had eaten my rat, or when I stopped talking to Harry in our fourth year..."

"It's not the same thing!"

"Yes, it is! I thought Harry had betrayed me, just like you thought I had betrayed you."

"No Ron! It's..." But Ron silenced her with a kiss.

"It's not that I'm uncomfortable lying in the mud with you on top of me, but I think we'd better warm up a bit at the fire before we catch our deaths."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been hard to write. Too many changes, and I don't know if all has been as smooth and believable as I wanted.
> 
> Well... Things will be a bit better for Ron from now on... But only a bit... Still hard times ahead!


	11. Black and White.

"You promised to give us Harry Potter, and what did we get? Hundreds of Acromantulas!"

"I couldn't know..."

"YOU COULDN'T KNOW!?"

"Still, the battle has been a great victory. They had many more casualties than us. And the old man is..."

"It's not enough. Harry Potter is still alive! You have failed... Crucio!"

Ron fell to the floor, writhing, as his cries echoed through the room. Only Bellatrix and a few other Death Eaters were present, watching the show with indifference.

"Hogwarts... The tunnels." The pain barely let him speak, but he had to finish what he had started... or die trying.

Voldemort raised his wand. "Tunnels?... What are you talking about?"

"The old man... Dumbledore... He's dying... without him, the castle's defences are weakened... Only he knew about the tunnels. They will be unguarded, we can enter Hogwarts through them."

"Tunnels, you say... While I was in the castle there was only one tunnel, and it was destroyed. Are you telling me that now there are more tunnels linking the inside of Hogwarts to the outside?"

"There are several. A few were destroyed, but others are still intact. Only Potter's father and his friends knew about them, the rest of the students and teachers never knew of their existence. Now that Dumbledore is agonising and Potter is in the hospital wing, It will be easy to use them to take the castle and end the war once and for all."

Voldemort seemed to weigh in. "According to my informants, Dumbledore is in San Mungo. But it wouldn't be the first time the old man faked his own death."

"It was my lord who brought him down. It can't be a farce."

"Right... And if what you say about the tunnels is true, Hogwarts would fall easily and with it, the last remnants of resistance."

"It is true my lord. They really do exist, I have used them more than once."

"And they were discovered by James Potter and his friends... Wormtail!"

A few seconds later a stunted, trembling figure approached his master.

"What do you wish, my lord?"

"Is it true what he claims? Is there a network of tunnels linking the castle to the outside? A network you never informed me about?"

"My lord, they had a map, the tunnels were on it. But I never knew exactly where they were! They never let me see it!"

"Wormtail... Why do you lie? Don't you realize Voldemort will always see through your pathetic excuses?"

"My Lord. It wasn't important. I never thought..."

"No, Wormtail. You never thought." Voldemort raised his wand.

"No! My lord... Sorry, sorry!" Pettigrew knelt down shaking like a leaf.

"You are forgiven. Avada Kedavra!"

With a wave of his wand, he threw the corpse into a corner of the room.

"Weasley, I want you to tell me everything you know about those tunnels. Everything."

(...)

"Ron! Wake up! You're having a nightmare!"

In front of him, still out of focus, was Hermione's face. Ron was lying on something soft and warm, much more comfortable than the hard, cold floor he was used to. He looked around quite disoriented. They were in a small room with barely enough space for two beds, and a tiny table with a chair.

"What? Where are we...?"

"Don't worry. We are safe. In a hotel room. It's almost daylight."

Ron recalled everything. Now they were staying in a Muggle hotel. They could eat all they needed and sleep in a soft, warm bed. Without a doubt, their life was much better since Hermione had changed her mind about his innocence.

"Are you feeling better? I tried to wake you up but I couldn't, it's like you're in a trance."

"Don't worry, it was just another one of my nightmares... the usual."

"There is nothing usual about these nightmares, and you have them more and more often. They remind me too much of when Harry had his visions. Maybe I could try to make a potion, or use some Muggle medicine."

It was amazing how Hermione had gone from obsessively despising him, to caring about him with the same intensity.

"Why do you care so much? A few days ago you hated my guts, and suddenly you believe in my innocence without a doubt. What if you're wrong? What if I really did all those things?"

"I'm not wrong: I know you, and I know you could never do such a thing." Her voice couldn't be more firm and certain.

"Yes. It's easy for you. You don't have to see... everything."

Hermione pushed his fringe aside in a loving gesture. "I know it's hard, but you can't let them affect you so much."

"Yes. I know: with all the spells I have in me, those nightmares could be almost anything. But the problem is that they're too detailed and realistic. I have no doubt that they are memories. My memories."

What could he do, lie to her? She had trusted him. He could only tell her the truth. Whatever it took.

(...)

Over the next few hours, Ron explained all his nightmares trying not to leave out any details, however horrible or unimportant they might seem. Hermione kept taking notes of everything he said, becoming paler and paler as the hours passed.

Ron dropped on his bed, totally exhausted. "I should have told you all this earlier, but I guess I didn't want to admit that I'm a monster. I'm sorry." What else could he say?

"Ron. Look at me." He obeyed reluctantly. "I have to think about all this. It's a lot of information."

"Yes... And all horrible."

Hermione ignored him and kept talking. "But I still believe in you. That man you remember is not you. There has to be a logical explanation, and I'm going to find it."

"There is: It's me. Don't you remember what Dumbledore said when he was trying to cure me, or whatever it was: I'm evil."

"Don't say that! Dumbledore never said you were evil. He said that there was evil in your heart, which is not the same thing."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "It looks the same to me."

"You have evil in your heart, like everyone else. To a greater or lesser extent we all do. Maybe Dumbledore was... examining you, or looking for something."

"And what he was finding wasn't very good... Wasn't it?"

"No. It was bad, but no one is just his faults. Not all people are the same way. Some persons are... Grey. In all their lives they do nothing bad, but also nothing good. They just let themselves go throughout their lives."

"Now, I'm grey?"

Hermione smiled fondly at him. "No. You are anything but grey. You are very emotional. You feel a lot, both for bad and for good. You have an incredible capacity for goodness, but you can also be cruel. I know that better than anyone else!"

"You really know how to make a person feel good." Ron said with irony.

"It's the truth. In all the years I've known you, you've made me cry more times than anyone else."

Hermione raised her hand to silence Ron before he could protest. "But for every time you've made me cry, you've made me laugh ten times. You may have great faults, but you also have immense virtues. You are all black and white. The opposite of a grey person."

"Then I am black and white. Half good and half evil."

"No. You have much more white. You may have some faults, but you are a good person."

"Thanks... I guess." Ron didn't seem too convinced.

"Ron. We all have a cruel side. And I'm no exception. Didn't I try to pluck your eyes out with some stupid magic birds? All because you kissed a girl!"

"Hermione, I never..."

"No. No matter what the circumstances. Such an attack is horrible and unjustifiable. If you hadn't lied to Mrs Pomfrey I'd have lost my prefect's badge... at least. The truth is that we all have an odious and cruel side. You, me, Harry, Ginny, everyone. Once we've cleared this up, how about a bite to eat and rest? All this has exhausted us."

"Okay. I'm going to freshen up and..."

Ron felt like a knife was cutting him time and time again. He squeezed his hand against his forearm and readied to endure the pain. It was already the third time this had happened to him. He could only wait.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. This time it takes longer to disappear."

His arm was covered in cuts again. Always different cuts, but forming the same word: COME.

Hermione kissed him tenderly on the temple and sat down on the bed to wait by his side.

"Thinking about all this." He pointed to all the notes he had taken. "And in the cuts... And also in the black and white thing. I think it's all starting to come together."

"Do you know what happened yet?" Ron asked in amazement.

"No, but I think I have a theory... We'd better start from the beginning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will be Hermione's theory?
> 
> Yes. I know I've left it in a shameless cliffhanger. But in a few days, the next chapter will be on-line... Lets hope.


	12. Chapter 12

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Ron didn't answer. He was distracted rubbing his right arm.

"Ron?"

"Those damn cuts are finally gone." He rolled up his shirt sleeve, discovering a fully healed forearm.

"Let me see it." Hermione had been pondering an idea for some time. If it was true, the reaction had to be almost immediate.

Ron held out his arm in front of her. "See? Perfect. As always, the cuts disappear without a trace."

Hermione held his wrist and with a wave of her wand, she caused a cut again, superficial but deep enough to bleed.

"What the hell! Why did you do that? First, you say it's better to do nothing and let them disappear on their own, and now you're the one cutting me." Ron tried to remove his arm, but Hermione was holding it firmly.

"I've changed my mind, I have to check something."

"Cutting my arm? As if I don't get enough cuts."

Hermione didn't respond but stared at the wound.

"Well, how long am I going to have to bleed out?

"Don't be silly, it's just a little cut. Just wait a few minutes." She had barely finished speaking when the cut disappeared on its own.

Ron looked at his arm in amazement. "How did you know...?" Before he could react Hermione had wound his arm again.

"Fuck! At least warn..." He didn't finish the sentence. The wound had disappeared again.

"Just once more. The last one."

"Merlin!" Ron sighed irritably but offered his arm again as he clenched his teeth. Hermione wounded him a third time. The cut disappeared immediately.

Hermione stared at his arm thoughtfully. "It's the only coherent explanation... I can't think of anything else."

Ron covered his arm. "The only explanation for what?"

"I can't be absolutely sure yet, but the next time it happens to you, let me know immediately. I'll have to write a word on your arm, but I'll use a spell first so that it doesn't hurt. Okay?"

Ron shrugged. "You're going to do it anyway. At least I hope it's worth something."

"It will. Trust me." She kissed him gently on the lips. Ron bent over her and deepened the kiss.

(...)

A few minutes later, a blushing Hermione was trying to fix a much bushier hair than usual. "I think we should continue with what we were doing, don't you?"

An equally blushing Ron sighed and leaned on the headboard of the bed. "If we have to..."

Hermione waited a few seconds. "And?... What's the last thing you remember?"

"Yes... The last thing." Ron closed his eyes, trying to remember. "I think it was Halloween. Although I'm not sure... The whole Order was holed up at Hogwarts. Although all the Horcruxes had been destroyed, the Dark Lord ruled over the entire magical world."

He opened his eyes and looked at Hermione. "I don't have very clear memories, but I think we were losing the war."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. It was only a matter of time before Hogwarts fell. Don't you remember your kidnapping, or the battle in the forbidden forest, or anything after that?"

Ron shook his head. "Nothing at all."

"Well... a few days after Halloween, you disappeared. We didn't hear from you until several weeks later, when we received an owl with a note from you telling us that we had to meet you immediately in the forbidden forest, in the clearing where Grawp used to live."

Ron remembered his dream. "Yes. It was the ambush that failed because of the Acromantulas!"

"Yes. You know how Harry is. Despite my protests, he decided to go there without missing a beat. In the corridors, we met Dumbledore. At the time I thought it was pure luck, but now I know that someone had warned him. He sent some Patronus and insisted on joining us. When we arrived, there were a dozen Death Eaters waiting for us. Dumbledore managed to keep us alive until help arrived. The confrontation grew, with more and more forces on each side, until hundreds of acromantulas appeared and forced us all to flee."

"I remember that. The Dark Lord almost killed Dumbledore... but Harry got away again."

"Yes, we all thought Dumbledore was badly wounded, including Voldemort who, thanks to you, decided to take the opportunity to attack Hogwarts. While, on the surface, his army of creatures tried to break through the defences, he and most of his Death Eaters slipped through the tunnels into the castle."

Ron's eyes opened wide. "The dream of the tunnel... Malfoy... And Dolohov."

"Yes. I suspect Dumbledore was never wounded. And just as he knew Harry was going into the forbidden forest, he now knew what to do and exactly when: He reinforced the castle's magical defences, blocking the tunnels, and leaving Voldemort and a few followers locked inside Hogwarts, while most of his army was trapped in the tunnels, unable to move forward or backwards."

"Yes. In my dream there was a magic shield blocking the tunnel and closing the way to Hogwarts."

"Dumbledore only had to send a few Aurors to the entrances of the tunnels to prevent the Death Eaters from retreating. Most of them ended up surrendering... Except in one tunnel, where they only found bodies. We never knew what happened there."

Ron decided that it was better not to think about all the atrocities he had committed. "So the Dark Lord made it to the castle?"

"Yes, and that was his undoing. Although his best Death Eaters entered with him, they were unable to hold out against the Aurors, the whole Order, the teachers and over a hundred students. They may have been very powerful, but against a proportion of one to twenty, they didn't stand a chance. Some tried to flee, like Lucius, others gathered around their Master to defend him to the death... In the end, it was Harry who destroyed Voldemort, as the prophecy said".

"Did Harry attack Voldemort and defeat him?" Ron asked amazed.

"Actually it was Ginny who attacked first. I guess no one realized what the diary really did to her. As soon as she saw Voldemort she went after him without worrying about anything else - and you know how powerful she is. At first, it looked like she might defeat him, but as soon as Voldemort recovered from the surprise the tables turned... In the end, it was Harry who defeated him by defending Ginny's life. I guess that was the power the Dark Lord knew not: The power of Love."

Ron couldn't help but think fleetingly of Hermione. He too would do anything for her.

"Well... That's all great. In the end, Harry managed to fulfil the prophecy... And survive! But what do I have to do with all this?"

"Who do you think informed Dumbledore that Harry was going into the forbidden forest, or where Voldemort was infiltrating? And who convinced Voldemort to attack Hogwarts through the tunnels? And who warned Dumbledore when to raise the castle's shields to isolate Voldemort from his army?"

Ron scratched his head, overwhelmed. "You really think that it was me?..."

"Dumbledore knew exactly what Voldemort was doing at every turn. I'm almost sure he planned it all: your betrayal, the battle in the forest, the acromantulas, the attack through the tunnels... Everything!"

"But if I was the spy, how could I deceive the Dark Lord? He looked into my mind. How could he not see I was a spy?... And how was I able to communicate with Dumbledore? Snape had the excuse of being a teacher, but I only left the Dark Lord's headquarters to attack Hogwarts."

"The two questions have only one answer: Dumbledore. He used a lot of magic on you... You remember being in his office and he did something to you. Even now you have an unknown and very powerful enchantment that blocks certain memories. The ministry assumed that Voldemort would have done it, but that doesn't make any sense. Why would he do that?"

Ron just shrugged. He was the prisoner, no one had told him anything. Although he thought he remembered that his defender had said something about him having a very powerful spell that it was falling apart on its own.

"Dumbledore needed another monster to replace Snape. So he built one. He manipulated your memories and your personality. He hid your good and decent side and left your dark and cruel one exposed... He turned you into what he needed to set Voldemort up."

"A bit too convenient... Isn't it? Dumbledore casts some strange spells that are exactly what it takes for me to be innocent."

"And exactly what it took to win a war that was lost. It could only be you, Ron. You're pureblood. You'd had enough arguments and issues with Harry and me. You could give Harry to Voldemort, to prove your loyalty. You knew about the tunnels, so you could suggest to use them without looking suspicious. You were the perfect trap!... And the spells? It's not so strange: He only removed all the inconvenient memories with some memory charms and did some variant of the imperius to force you to be..."

"A brutal killer." Ended Ron.

"Dumbledore probably made the Raknarok spell not only to protect you, but to cover up all the spells he had cast to change you into the perfect spy. Voldemort never understood love or friendship, so he only looked for hate, grudge, envy... your black part. And you had more than enough reasons and darkness to justify your betrayal. Dumbledore hid your white part, but most likely Voldemort didn't even look for it... He was blinded by his own hate."

"That's it? Voldemort simply did not suspect anything..."

"Unfortunately, defections weren't unusual in these times. Quite a few wizards fled or changed sides when they saw that the war was lost. You were only another wizard trying to save his family. The only thing special about you was your friendship with Harry. I guess they took that as a sign that the Order was finally crumbling."

"And how do you know I didn't really desert?"

"No. It can only be you... You told Voldemort about the prophecy, but not that we had destroyed all his Horcruxes, because the prophecy was perfect for attracting Voldemort without him knowing that he was already mortal... And the communication to be able to warn at what moment Voldemort had entered Hogwarts, had to be a very fast and totally safe method. Can't you think of one?"

His head was spinning with so much information. "No, but I'm sure you're going to tell me right now."

"Your arm. I think it's linked to Dumbledore. Like the Blood Quill that Umbridge gave Harry, instead of writing on a piece of paper and appearing on the hand, you write on one arm and appear on the other."

Ron looked at her, not too convinced. "Do you think so?"

"You don't realize, it's the typical irony that Dumbledore would have loved. One arm with the spell of the dark mark to communicate with Voldemort and the other with this spell to communicate with him - the right hand with the light and the left hand with the darkness."

"So you think it's Dumbledore who's sending the messages?"

"I can't be totally sure, but I think it's most likely. He is in San Mungo. He was seriously injured in the last battle. He is probably too weak to send a clearer message."

Ron thought to himself. "Dumbledore is sending me messages asking me to come and see him. So strange!... And why do they disappear?"

"I suppose a healer heal them, thinking they're just cuts... You saw how they disappeared."

"It's all so complicated."

"If it was simple It could never have fooled Voldemort. Don't you think?"

"How can you be so sure?" His tone was a mixture of question and astonishment.

"Do you think the smartest witch of her generation could fall in love with someone evil?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Downright boring? Or confusing?... I tried to explain everything and make the chapter as clear and light as possible, but honestly, I don't know if I succeeded.


	13. St. Mungo.

A freckled redheaded Hermione was quietly drinking her tea, while Ron, with a very short hair, beard and glasses, kept turning his head to observe the Muggles around him with a curiosity that would have made his father proud.

They were sitting on the terrace of a small Muggle cafe in the middle of London. A few dozen yards down the street stood a rickety red brick building. Everyone passed by its dirty windows without paying the slightest attention. No Muggle could suspect that it was the biggest magic hospital on the islands.

Hermione finished his remaining tea in one gulp. "It's time."

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"We've already talked about it. You saw your arm. It's the only chance we have to clear up what happened."

He did see it, indeed. Two days before, the cuts had reappeared. Ungainly but still legible. This time Hermione healed his arm immediately and wrote the word 'WHERE'. The answer was what she expected: 'MUNGO'. Dumbledore's room was on the fourth floor. Now Hermione was absolutely sure that he was the one they had been communicating with. Ron did not share such optimism, but neither could he find any other explanation.

Hermione stood up. "We'd better start moving. And remember, don't move from my side and let me do the talking."

"All right, you lead." Hermione knew St. Mungo's Hospital well. After the war, she had been there often, first visiting Ginny and Harry as they recovered from the last battle, and then accompanying some member of the Weasley family, usually Ginny or Molly, when they went to see Bill.

They approached the dirty building and passed through the windows of the entrance without any problem. The interior was quieter than Ron remembered, but still scores of patients filled the hospital's reception.

Hermione walked over to a tired-looking nurse. Ron tried to follow her, as he had promised, but a strange purple-skinned wizard cut him off.

"Gnap! Gnap!" He shouted as he jumped around him as a kangaroo, and stretched his neck to try to bite him. Ron just stared at him, too surprised to do anything.

"Harold! Leave the young man alone!" A middle-aged witch approached and held the strange wizard down. "I'm so sorry. This damned nephew of ours and his Muggle nonsenses. He never stops giving us grief! As soon as my husband is fixed, he's sure to get what he deserves." Ron watched as the lady pushed Harold into the corner of the room while scolding him like a naughty pet.

"Ron! What the hell... I told you not to leave my side."

"Hermione... I... He..." He pointed to the jumping wizard.

"Do you think it's time to make friends?" She took him by the hand without paying attention and dragged him to the lifts. "I told her we're here to visit Bill. His room is opposite Dumbledore's."

St. Mungo had not changed much over the years, the same narrow corridors, the same old portraits on the walls. Hermione guided Ron without hesitation until they reached a foyer. Ron saw two large double doors: The entrance to the Pavilion -Gilderoy Lockhart-. He had died during a Death Eater's attack, bravely holding them back while the rest of the patients were evacuated. In his madness, he was the great hero he had never been when he was sane.

Hermione pulled Ron aside and began to speak hastily. "We're almost there. Once we pass the doors, we follow the corridor and turn left. Bill's room is around the corner. Once inside we'll think about how we can get to Dumbledore's. Okay?"

Ron shrugged. "As you wish."

"There was always an Auror at the door before, I guess he'll be still there. Do as if he wasn't there. Look straight ahead, and don't dawdle - but don't walk too fast either. Behave as if you were here every day."

Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Yes, Mum. And I won't talk to strangers."

"Don't be silly! This is very serious!"

"Hermione. You've told me the same thing fifty times already. I know it by heart. And I know it's serious, or you have forgotten I'm the one who's going to Azkaban if we're discovered?"

Hermione took a deep breath trying to calm down. "I'm sorry, I'm very nervous. You know how I get..."

Ron wrapped his hands around hers. "Yes. You get sexy and beautiful... I'm sorry I'm such an idiot, too." He kissed Hermione sweetly. It was great to be able to kiss her whenever he wanted. And avoided a lot of arguments.

Hermione kissed him back wholeheartedly. "You're so... You and I are going to have a conversation when we get out of here."

"Oh... Of course." The tone was affectionate, so it didn't seem like a bad thing.

Hermione nervously ran her hands over his shirt trying to smooth out some non-existent wrinkles. "Ready?"

Ron nodded. "Let's go."

It didn't take them a minute to get to Bill's room, which fortunately was empty, but for Ron it was the longest minute of his life.

As Hermione had said, an Auror stood guard at the door of Dumbledore's room. Fortunately, neither he nor the many healers who passed through the hall gave them a second glance. To them, they must have been just another pair of redheaded Weasleys going to visit their poor brother.

"Ron. Are you listening to me?"

Ron was watching his brother Bill languishing in the bed. He was incredibly thin and pale. "He's dying."

No matter how much Hermione hated it, all she could do was respond with the truth. "The healers have done all they can... but they don't think he'll ever wake up."

Ron took his brother's hand, he was cold as a corpse. "It's not fair. They had just had a child... they were so in love, in the prime of life. Who's going to take care of little Victoire now?"

"She's in the Burrow, she has your parents and all your brothers, a great family that's going to take care of her and love her."

Ron said nothing, just kept looking at the empty shell of what had once been his older brother.

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder. "Ron, we need to see Dumbledore. We can't risk being discovered."

"Yes, you're right." She squeezed Bill's hand before releasing it. "How are we going to get through the Auror? We can't face him in a hallway full of people."

Hermione peeked through the small window in the door. Suddenly she stood on her tiptoes and began to look sideways. "He's gone! We have to take the opportunity."

"What if he's inside the room?"

"We have surprise on our side. And inside the room no one will see us."

In a couple of strides they crossed the corridor. As Ron had suspected, the Auror was inside the room, but lying on the floor and totally unconscious.

"I knew... was you." Dumbledore smiled weakly, he could barely hold the wand in his hand.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Ron walked over to the bed. He had never seen Dumbledore so frail. He barely seemed to be conscious.

"Ronald... boy... Who's with you?" Hermione went over to the bed. "Granger... Of course."

Hermione put her hand on top of the old man's. "Sir, we need your help. Ron... You and Ron did something."

"He... made it... chess... I knew." He seemed to be delirious.

Hermione shook him gently. "Sir! Ron needs your help!"

Dumbledore blinked as if waking from a dream, and for a moment he seemed to recover a little of his former presence.

"Ron... Come closer." He closed his eyes and placed his wand on Ron's chest. "Bad..." He frowned and whispered some almost inaudible words. "Black Knight."

Ron recoiled sharply and began to gasp as if he had been hit in the pit of his stomach.

Hermione went immediately to his side. "Ron! Are you all right?"

"I remember... Everything." Ron whispered. He only had time to turn around, before he emptied his stomach against the wall.

"... So tired." Dumbledore's voice was getting weaker, he seemed to be fading away.

"Professor, you have to help him! He's innocent, you have to tell the Ministry!" Hermione begged.

"I... die... justice." He was unconscious, his chest barely rising as he breathed laboriously.

Suddenly, a deafening alarm resounded in the room. "Ron! We have to go!" Hermione shouted.

As soon as they came out into the corridor, they saw that a group of healers was already running towards the room. Among all the green robes stood out a black-uniformed Auror who, wand in hand, was heading towards them.

"This way!" Hermione yelled, pulling Ron's hand.

They ran through the corridors as fast as they could, dodging patients and healers. The Auror wasn't far away judging by his shouts, but fortunately for them the corridors were too crowded to cast any spell.

"To the right!" If Hermione wasn't mistaken, a little further on there was an emergency stairway that led directly to the street.

"¡Harold, NO!"

Hermione looked over her shoulder as she continued running. The Auror that was chasing them was lying on the ground, above him was the strange purple-skinned wizard that Ron had been talking to before.

There were only a few feet left to reach the stairs and not a single obstacle to prevent their escape.

They were safe!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More problems for Ron... And there are only two chapters (and the epilogue) left to solve everything!
> 
> In this chapter there is an 'Easter Egg': Does anyone recognize the jumping purple wizard?
> 
> Clues: Originally he was black, but (like the original authors when they edited it in the USA) I changed the colour to avoid racial problems.
> 
> It belongs to a children/youth comic book from the 60's but it's considered one of the first appearances of "modern zombie" apocalypse phenomenon, even earlier than George Romero's films.


	14. The End.

In the last few days, they had been living in a small two-storey house on the outskirts of London. Ron was in the living room, sitting in front of the fireplace with a newspaper in his hands.

He couldn't help but read it over and over again. The first page of the Prophet announced it in huge letters: Dumbledore had died.

The escaped Death Eater Ronald Weasley had murdered the great wizard Albus W. Dumbledore while recovering from his wounds at St. Mungo. In the interior pages, several articles tried to clarify the circumstances of the events and the possible motives: Revenge, an attempt to reorganize the Death Eaters, a black magic ritual, simple madness... each theory was more absurd than the previous.

Ron finally raised his eyes from the newspaper. Hermione was sitting next to him. "Ron, no matter how much you read it, it's not going to change." She said, concerned.

"You have to go."

"What?" Hermione looked at him puzzled.

"Dumbledore was the only one who knew, and now he's dead. I'm doomed... and besides, I'm a murderer. You shouldn't live with a murderer."

The words Dumbledore spoke at San Mungo seemed to have removed all his spells, including the Ragnarok curse. Since that day, Ron had remembered almost all of his past as a Death Eater. Probably the rest of his memories would return in time.

Hermione's expression went from surprise to rage in a second. "That's not true! Dumbledore altered your personality... He turned you into a monster so you could do all those horrible things."

"And I agreed. I'm as responsible as he is." He was strangely calm, perhaps because, for once, Ron knew he was right.

"And what could you do? Let Voldemort win the war? What you did was a suicidal..." Hermione stopped, looking for a strong enough word. "... monstrosity, but it was the only option. That, or a total defeat and death for all of us. You had no choice!"

"Still, I'm still responsible for everything I did."

"You are not!... He wasn't you!"

Ron turned and looked at Hermione straight in the eye, trying to make her understand. "Do you think that's going to make the families of the people I killed any better? And now, with Dumbledore's death, the Ministry won't stop until they find me. Sooner or later, the Aurors will find me, and you can't be with me when that happens."

Hermione crossed her arms and looked at him defiantly. "Now you want to get rid of me?"

He ran his hand over his head in frustration. "Of course not, but there are already some articles that say you could have helped me. You have to go. You have your whole life ahead of you. I can't sacrifice you."

"You don't want to sacrifice me, but you want me to spend the rest of my life embittered, knowing that I abandoned you. My whole life wondering if I could have done something more, something that would have saved you."

"You have a hundred years of life ahead of you! You will overcome all this, find a person to be happy with and..."

"No. Ron." Hermione replied firmly. "I'll be another Severus Snape. I'll spend my whole life being angry and bitter that I didn't do more when I had the chance. I will never be able to enjoy life again."

"Hermione, that's not...!"

"You don't understand. I can accept the risk that by being with you, I may only have a few months to live. What I won't accept is knowing that I have more than a hundred years left of remembering that I failed you and abandoned you to your fate." Now it was Hermione who was calm, and Ron who hesitated.

"Then, you must pay for my crimes? That's not fair."

"Life is not fair. If it were, Voldemort would never have existed, my parents wouldn't be dead, and we wouldn't be here. I have never let fear stop me from living the life I want, and I not going to start now... I can't know what will happen, but I do know that I'll make the most of the time I have, whether it's a hundred days or a hundred years."

Hermione started to kiss him, between kisses she got up and started to take him to the bedroom. "And I'm going to start from this very moment."

It only took him a few seconds to realize where Hermione was leading him. "What are you doing? You can't..." Ron protested without much conviction.

"Of course I can." Hermione replied with a smile. "Remember when I told you in the hospital that we had to talk?... Well, let's talk: Ronald Bilius Weasley, will you be my husband?"

"What? Do you really think this is the time to...?"

"Any day could be our last, and there are things I want to experience. So... Will you be my husband? It's a very easy question: Yes or No."

"But Hermione. You can't..."

"I can't what? Since I am a woman I can't ask you to marry me? It's the 20th century, Ron. No buts... Yes or no?"

"Yes. Of course I want to... I've always wanted to, but I don't think this is a good time." Ron insisted.

"I want to be your wife too, so we're already married." She opened the bedroom door and pushed him in. "And we're going to do what all newlywed couples do."

"Melin! No, Hermione. We are not married. For once I want to do the right thing."

"And you do. You have been so incredibly sweet and considerate. I really want this... Us." Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron's neck. "We may not be married legally. But you love me, and I love you. You want to be my husband, and I want to be your wife... For me, that's more than enough."

(...)

Several hours later Ron was lying naked on the bed. Beside him, Hermione slept peacefully, covered by a thin sheet that gave a glimpse of her slim body. They had made love for the first time.

Ron had always imagined it as something... mystical, he supposed was the right word. But nothing was further from the truth. It had been a warm experience, incredibly carnal, and unexpectedly funny: more than once they had ended up laughing at each other's clumsiness.

Without a doubt, it had been the most incredible experience of his whole life, but he could not waste his time thinking about it. He had a lot to do.

A bright future awaited Hermione. She was going to change the magic world for the better. Many people, and creatures, depended on her to stand up for their rights. He couldn't let Hermione waste her life sacrificing herself for him. For her own sake, and for the sake of the whole magical world.

Ron got up, careful not to wake her up, and took the wand from the bedside table. He could not hesitate. "Stupefy!" Hermione continued sleeping, but now, nothing could wake her up.

It was the perfect solution: Hermione would not feel guilty, nor would she have anything to regret. Naturally, Ron knew that Hermione would suffer, but if she had overcome the death of her parents, she would also overcome his.

Ron quickly got dressed and walked out the front door. He had an owl to send. Soon an anonymous letter would arrive at the Auror's headquarters informing that the famous criminal Ronald Weasley had been seen in a small house outside of London.

(...)

An unpleasant sensation woke Hermione up: she couldn't move. When she opened her eyes she realized why: She was tied by magic ropes from head to toe. Sitting on the side of the bed was Ron absorbed in his thoughts.

"Ron!... What's wrong? Why did you tie me up?" She asked, confused.

Ron turned to her. His eyes were red and sad. "I'm so sorry, but It's the only way out. The Aurors will think I raped you and leave you alone. No one will doubt you."

"Aurors? What's going on? Please, untie me. We can still run away."

"There's no time. The Aurors must be already coming. I just want you to know that I love you, I always have... You're the best thing that ever happened to me." Ron gently pushed her fringes aside and kissed her on the forehead.

"Ron, please! Don't do this to me!" Hermione wriggled frantically trying to free herself from her magical bonds.

The two of them stopped for a moment. All the noises in the city had suddenly become silent. Nothing could be heard at all. Ron recognized the feeling instantly: The Aurors had isolated the house from the rest of the Muggle neighbourhood. Now they could storm the house without fear that any curious Muggle would see anything they shouldn't.

Time was running out. "Hermione, my family must know what really happened. You have to tell them that I never wanted to be a murderer, that I didn't betray them out of my own will."

"RON! Listen to me. You don't have to do this!" Hermione begged desperately, huge tears falling down her cheeks.

He picked up his wand. Actually, the Auror's wand... Merlin! How could he be such an idiot? All his memories incriminated Ginny and Hermione. Now it was too late. All he could do was make sure that the Aurors would kill him. Though after making a fool of them by escaping from Azkaban and killing Dumbledore, it wouldn't be too difficult.

Ron got up and walked to the door. He stopped for a moment to look at Hermione one last time.

(...)

Hermione heard Ron's footsteps echoing from the stairs leading up to the exit. Suddenly the whole house was filled with booms and cries. Two Aurors appeared out of nowhere in the room, looked around quickly and rushed to the door.

A few seconds later Harry appeared beside his bed. He was hard to recognize, he was much thinner and looked much older. With a wave of his wand, he vanished the ropes and hugged Hermione, wrapping the bedsheets around her body.

Hermione tried to free herself from his arms. "Ron. Where's Ron?" She asked desperately.

"You're safe. He won't hurt you again." Harry answered with tears in his eyes. Naked, tied up and crying... Neither he nor any of the Aurors doubted what had happened.

"Harry, tell me where he is!" She grabbed him by the shirt and tried to shake him as hard as she could.

Harry, surprised, could hardly contain her. "He can't get away. Don't worry, he'll never touch you again. You are safe."

"But is he alive?" Hermione tried to get Harry out of her way. "I need to see him!"

"Calm down... He won't get away again. I promise you! But you must be calm." Hermione was still struggling, but Harry now had her firmly in his grasp.

"You don't understand! You don't understand anything! I need..." But before he could finish the sentence she collapsed unconscious into Harry's arms.

Harry looked up. One of the Aurors put away his wand and shrugged. "I'm sorry Potter, but the poor girl was hysterical. At least this way she won't suffer. When the healers arrive they will take care of her. They will know what to do."

Harry nodded resignedly as he laid her back on the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sex scene. I thought it would be a bit "irrelevant" plot-wise... And my next fic will have some juicy sex, so... (Ok. Not so juicy... More like "almost" realistic.)
> 
> The next episode is the conclusion. What will be Ron's fate?
> 
> I will post both, the last chapter and the epilogue. I like epilogues, but not to wait for another chapter when the story is already finished.


	15. The Beginning.

The first thing Ron noticed were the sheets surrounding his body, soft and warm... And they smelled good: He couldn't be in a cell.

He opened his eyes and looked around. All was blurred, but he recognized the arrangement of the furniture, and the raging orange colour of the walls: He was in his old room, in the Burrow. Gradually his eyesight became clearer. Everything was as usual, the orange walls, his Chudey Cannons posters, the old lamp and his old-fashioned furniture. It was as if no time had passed.

He tried to get up, but after a few seconds of effort, his muscles refused to obey any longer and he fell on the mattress with a grunt.

"MOLLY, HARRY! RON IS AWAKE!" Hermione ran through the door like a whirlwind. Ron stared at her amazed. She was... she looked great. Her hair was up in a ponytail and her nose and cheeks were red from the sun. She looked at Ron with a huge smile and tears in her eyes. "You've finally woken up!"

Within seconds his mother was hugging him and covering his entire face with kisses. "My poor little boy... It's all over. You're home safe now."

"Mum... You're smothering me."

"I'm sorry honey. How silly of me, you'll still be sore." Molly pulled back a little and ran her hand through Ron's hair, straightening it. "You will be hungry, after so many days unconscious! I'm going to prepare all your favourite foods. For Merlin's sake, I have to call Arthur and your brothers!"

She stood up, wiping her tears. "Tonight there is a great celebration!" Before leaving she gave Ron another bear hug.

All that time Harry had stood by the door. Hermione turned to him. "Aren't you going to say hello to your best friend?"

Harry looked up from the floor and looked at Ron shyly. "I'm... I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry about?" Ron was still a little confused. What was he apologizing for? He hadn't even seen Harry at the raid.

"It's all my fault! Because of me, you're covered in scars, because of me you've almost died more times than I can remember... And because of me, you had to sacrifice yourself in the most horrendous and vile way." Harry's face contracted in a gesture of disgust.

"And all because I wasn't strong enough to take Riddle down. And how do I repay you? In the end, I didn't even believe in you. Hermione did and stood by you. But me? I failed you completely."

No one like Harry Potter to take the blame for everything. "Harry, Hermione was with me by chance, and she didn't believe in me... at least, not at first. I didn't even believe in me!"

"But she was there, and she helped you, while I was getting drunk in Grimmauld Place without lifting a finger. Hermione helped you. Ginny helped you. The twins helped you!... And me? Your so-called best friend. What a shitty best friend I am!"

"Harry, I suppose Hermione told you everything. Even we didn't know what had happened, or what was going on... How the hell would you know?!"

"There was no need to know anything! I was your best friend, I should have trusted you. George and Fred never needed to know anything, and they always believed in you. But I..."

"And didn't I fail Hermione when I thought her cat had eaten my pet? Did I not fail you when I thought you had put your name in the Goblet of Fire? And you forgave me... Harry, we all make mistakes."

"This is different!"

"Just like Hermione! It's impossible to reason with you!" Ron complained, both amused and annoyed.

"Harry, you're still my best friend, and I hope I'm still yours." Ron reached out to him. Harry took his hand uncertainly but Ron squeezed it tightly as he looked into Harry's eyes smiling. Harry responded to the smile as a tear rolled down his cheek.

Harry cleared his throat nervously. "I suppose you'll want some time alone. I think Hermione has a lot to tell you, and... I think I'm going to help Molly. She'll probably need someone to go to pick up Ginny. You know, for the party tonight. And I suppose you'll have a lot to talk about, now that you two are together and... married." As he spoke, Harry got redder and redder. He had already receded to the door. "Well, see you in a while."

Hermione stared with a smile at the door where Harry had just disappeared. "He'll be fine. It may take a while, but he'll get over it. Although I think he still finds a bit hard to assume that we are now married, and sexually active."

"Did you tell them... that?" Ron asked, astonished.

Hermione put her hands on her hips to stress her outrage. "Thanks to you, you big idiot, I was found naked in your bed... What could I do? I've made it clear to everyone about our new situation. Until you are fully recovered, this is our bedroom, and this, our bed."

Ron realised that this was indeed not his old bed, but a double bed.

"And my mother didn't say anything?"

"On the contrary. She has welcomed me into the family. Advantages of giving back her prodigal son." Hermione answered. "Well, I suppose you'll want to know how you got here."

Ron nodded. "Yes. I don't understand how I could have been released... Because I was released, right? You didn't...?" he asked in alarm.

"No. Of course not. After Dumbledore's death... You remember what happened, don't you?"

"Yes. He was in the hospital... and he died... and I was captured."

Hermione's gesture hardened. "You mean you gave yourself up! I know everything. Harry told me that the note was written by you. Don't think I've forgotten, but that doesn't matter now. We'll have time to talk about it later."

At that moment Ron was happy to be convalescing. Hermione was still very intimidating when she was angry... Sexy, but intimidating.

Hermione forgot the scolding for the moment and continued to explain. "Remember Dumbledore told us something about dying and justice? At the time we didn't understand it but now I know what he meant. In his will, he had some documents to be given to certain people in case of his death. One of those documents was his diary. In it, he explained everything he did to you, how he convinced you, and the spells and potions he used on you. The day after your arrest, Shacklebolt and Harry received copies of the diary, along with a note from Dumbledore explaining everything.

"So, am I free?" Ron asked hopefully.

Hermione looked away, uncomfortable. "Not exactly."

"Not exactly? Well, I'm not in Azkaban!"

"Officially, you're dead. You died in the confrontation with the Aurors who freed me."

"I don't understand. If I'm innocent. Why fake my death?"

"In his diary, Dumbledore explains everything he did, and a lot of things are... extremely unethical. The Ministry believes that the magic world needs heroes, and Harry and Dumbledore are the saviours of the Magic World. If it were suddenly to be discovered what the great Dumbledore did to win the war, it would be a gigantic scandal. So they have decided that Dumbledore's diary will never come out."

"But, then... what about me?"

"They offered us a deal. Ronald Weasley died in Azkaban a few days after his capture from injuries sustained during his confrontation with the Aurors. You are now William Weasley, miraculously recovered months after being evicted by the healers. You have always been very much like him and very few persons have seen Bill in more than a year, so it's understandable if he is a bit different."

"But I can't replace Bill... I don't know anything about his work, I don't know his friends, nor..." Ron exclaimed, alarmed.

Hermione placed her hand on Ron's arm in a reassuring gesture. "You have amnesia. You don't remember anything about your past. No one will be surprised after so many months in a coma. With that and a couple of glamour spells, no one will suspect anything... Probably, in a few months we will be able to remove them gradually."

"And Bill? "

"He's in the attic, your mother has reformed it. It's a very nice room now. Only the family knows he's there."

"So... I'm Bill Weasley now?" Ron asked, a bit awkwardly.

"Yes. We all think it's for the best. Being Ron, you could never live peacefully. Without the diary you'd be a criminal and if it came out..."

"Everyone would know what Dumbledore did. And what I did."

"It's better that way. Now you're a hero." Hermione began to speak as if she was reading an article from the last issue of Witch Weekly. "A hero who will soon win the heart of Miss Hermione Granger, a longtime friend of the family who kindly volunteered to help young Weasley's recovery."

"But I'm no hero." Ron complained weakly.

Hermione sat on his lap and stared into his eyes. "Listen to me, Ron. In this terrible war, we have all done horrible things: You, me, Harry, Ginny... All of us. But you know what? The war is over now. It's just a part of the past now. Nothing ties us to it... We even made sure that an unspeakable examined you thoroughly. Now, all the spells have been removed and you're free of all those horrible memories."

Free? But he kept remembering... No. He didn't remember anything. "It's true. I remember the war, but nothing about..."

"Nothing about the monster Dumbledore created. That's how the spell should have worked. When Voldemort died you had to get back your real personality and all the memories erased by Dumbledore. When he activated the keyword, all the spells had to disappear along with the memories of the monster. Something didn't work out very well."

"It's so strange. I know what happened, but I can't remember..." Ron mumbled.

"And it's much better that way. We must leave the whole war behind, and think only of the future. If you don't do it for yourself, do it for your family... and me."

Leave the war behind? That wasn't going to be easy. Not for him, at least. But Hermione was right: No matter how horrible it was. The war was only the past. Now, the most important thing was her, Harry, and her family. After all the suffering she had put them through, she couldn't let them down.

"I guess you're right... as usual." He pulled her face closer and kissed her gently. "Alright, I'll try to... I don't know. To forget and begin a new life. I suppose."

"You know that you aren't alone, ok? You have a wonderful family and Harry... And a gifted young wife who will always be by your side." Hermione winked at him with a mischievous smile.

"And very humble." Ron replied with a huge smile.

Ron knew it wouldn't be easy, but he had his whole life ahead of him, and he was going to enjoy it. For Hermione and his family... His family! Suddenly something popped into Ron's mind.

The rudest and most obscene word that anyone would ever dare utter in that place resounded down the stairs of the Burrow, immediately followed by Hermione's laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but half a meter of snow has made things a bit difficult in R.L. I hadn't revised it as well as I wanted, so if something is not correct English, please tell me and I'll correct it.
> 
> As promised, Ron had his happy ending. Even if it's under a false identity. Honestly, I think it was the only coherent way out for him.
> 
> Well, this fic is almost finished. The epilogue will be posted at the same time that this chapter, so I suppose it will be available right now.
> 
> I hope that everything has been explained and that this fic wasn't too boring, or incoherent.


	16. Years Later

"DAD!"

Victoire had just appeared through the fireplace. She was carrying The Prophet in her hand. Ron could see the huge headlines on the front page constantly changing. The new minister had decided that it was time to make all the war documents public, including Dumbledore's diaries. The scandal had reached epic proportions.

Victoire showed him the front page. "What does this mean?"

Ron only raised an eyebrow. "Weren't you supposed to spend the day at Teddy's?"

"Dad!" She stomped her foot on the floor. "This is important!... Is it true what it says in the paper? About Dumbledore's diary?"

It was unbelievable. Without a drop of Granger's blood and she had the same gestures and the same temper that Hermione. A blonde half-veela Hermione... Poor Teddy.

"For all I care they could have burned all those damn diaries." He looked out the window. Hermione was in the garden torturing her rose bushes. It was good to know she was nearby, in case he needed help.

"So, is it true? I'm not your daughter." Tears began to well up in her eyes.

Ron's posture changed completely. His eyes burned with restrained fury as he spoke. "Of course you're my daughter! You're my treasure, and I'll tear the soul out of anyone who dares to say otherwise."

"But... If what they say is true..." She began to speak at full speed, as Hermione did when she was nervous. "You're not William Weasley, you're Ronald, the traitor but it turns out he wasn't a traitor, but a hero because he was magically altered and used by Dumbledore, who wasn't a hero, but a cruel manipulator... And you've spent all these years pretending to be William, but you're Ronald. And I'm William's daughter, not Ronald's... Or am I?"

"I am your father. It doesn't matter if my name is William or Ronald. And you are my daughter. I'm the one who cleaned your ass when you were a baby. Who rocked you when you couldn't sleep. Who taught you to eat with a spoon, to walk, to fly on a broom!... You're a Weasley to the core. And you are my wonderful daughter."

Victorie looked down. "But you had to pretend to be my father. You were forced to raise me."

"Not at all. We raised you because we wanted to. We were very young, and we could have let one of my older brothers or your grandparents raise you, but when we saw you... You were the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. And you still are. You are my beautiful little princess."

He could see his daughter blushing slightly. He was on the right track.

"Came on. Sit here." He patted his lap.

"But Dad! I'm too old to sit on your knees."

"Young lady, learn to respect your elderly father's wishes!" Ron retorted playfully.

Victoire couldn't help but giggle as she obeyed. "You're no old man. In fact, my friends keep saying you're drop-dead gorgeous."

"Still?" Sometimes her friends reminded him of Ginny the first times she saw Harry. They were all stuttering and blushing.

"It looks like it." She rolled her eyes. She got that gesture from him.

"You know... You could let it slip in front of mum. As if without noticing."

"You want to make her jealous, and you use your own daughter! Aren't you ashamed?" She said fakely scandalized.

She liked this much better. A happy and playful Victoire. "It's just a little favour, only to keep her interested, and break the routine... You know."

"Oh yes! I know... And then you will be kissing everywhere." She wrinkled her nose with a disgusted look. "No, thanks."

Victoire leaned against his chest, while Ron wrapped his arms around her. "How are you? Better?"

She shrugged, not quite sure how to respond.

"Honey, all that stuff they talk about happened many years ago. It was a horrible war, and when it ended we were all in a bad way. Your mother and I were very lucky to have you as a daughter. You were like an angel come down from heaven, at a time when we desperately needed to see something good in this world. You were our salvation."

"But it's not fair. You were a hero, and you had to hide... And everyone hated you."

Ron smiled. "And you think I care? The only thing that matters about this whole mess is how it affects you. You're the only thing I care about: You're my wonderful baby."

And it was true. He couldn't care less about being a hero or a villain. But it would break his heart if Victoire stopped considering herself his daughter and seeing him as her father.

Ron gently lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. "So, we're good?"

"Of course we are!" She gave him a loud kiss on the cheek. "You're the best father in the world!" She put her arms around Ron's neck and gave him a big hug.

Ron had never felt more satisfied in his whole life. He had a marvellous daughter and a loving wife: All was well.

(...)

"I'm going to be a knight," said Ron.

–Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone: Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ron was always the Knight in shining armor who defended his lady.
> 
> In this epilogue, I wanted to show how the years have put everything into perspective. What is really important to Ron is his family. The war is just an unpleasant memory without any value, which is better forgotten.
> 
> By the way... If anyone wonders why Ron was cursing at the end of the last chapter: It was because he had just realized that he was now Victoire's father.
> 
> And... That's all! When I reread this old fic I thought it deserved a new life. Besides translating it, I have tried to improve it as much as possible. I hope it was at least entertaining.


End file.
